Isabella
by xDreamlessx
Summary: AB, AU, Human Alice, Vampire Bella. Alice is a slightly slutty teenage lesbian who's every dream seems to come true when she meets a beautiful dark haired vampire named Bella. But will Alice be Bella's forever, or do all dreams have to be woken from eventually?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi! This is an idea I started just for fun, but it turned out to be much more engrossing than I thought. It's a very simple concept, but I've always been fascinated by the notion of **_**pure**_** romance. I've tried it before, but I can never seem to get it quite right. Fingers crossed for this one, lol.**

**Anyway, there's no real warnings beyond the basics; femmeslash, sex, bad language, etc. Just general adult themes. Also bear in mind the story is AU. As the summary states, Alice is the human while Bella is the vampire. I won't be using the Twilight vampire rules either, so no sparkling or special powers. Everything will be explained in the story as required, so just try and keep it in mind.**

**And that's about it. Thanks for clicking. Hope you like it. ;)**

—

Isabella

—

—

Chapter 1:

—

_I was having one of those dreams again._

_Breathless. On a bed somewhere. Naked and watching across my body and through my open legs as she came to me out of the darkness. She was so pale she seemed to glow like the moon. Something unearthly about her. Ethereal. I watched her, dazed and mesmerized. I didn't know how I got there, I only knew that I was there for no other reason than to be hers._

_She was coming towards me and I shivered in anticipation. Her hair was so black it seemed to meld into the darkness, thick black locks of it tumbling about her shoulders like shadowy tendrils to bind her back into the night from whence she came. Sable tressed succubus, pure white her skin and pure sin her body. Her breasts looming like moons, huge and heavy, rich white mounds topped with nipples that were the palest pink. Legs like marble, so perfectly smooth and white. She was descending upon me and I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. I could only stare at her. At her dark eyes, darker than the darkest night. Lavish with lust and arrayed with thick long lashes. Below them a smile. Red and wicked and leaning down from the darkness to claim my lips with her own._

_Then I woke up._

—

Abruptly, with a groan. My eyelids shot open and there was a sharp pang in my heart as I realized it was all just a dream.

Ugh.

Reality.

I sank facefirst into the pillow and groaned again. There was a wet patch where I'd been drooling from the dream and I rolled over away from it.

But wow, what a dream. My whole body was throbbing, especially between my legs. I've always had a lot of sex dreams, but rarely as vivid as that. That was awesome. I only wish it went a little further, but since I'd never been that far in real life, I guess my subconscious couldn't quite figure it out. But wow.

I was even breathing a little heavy, half orgasmed in my little bed, and I smiled to myself as I covered my eyes with my forearm. I loved when I had dreams like that. Always about the same chick, too. That chick with long black hair and pale skin. Kind of vampire-ish. Always her, every time. I don't know why my sexual imagination had latched onto that particular stereotype as the pinnacle of my sexual desire, but I wasn't complaining. She was hot as fuck. I'd give anything to actually date a woman like that.

I sighed and opened my eyes. Early morning. Still kind of dim in the room. I blinked a couple times and rolled over onto my side.

My closet was open and hanging in there was my prom dress. I smiled at it and let the excitement flow into my chest.

Prom night, tonight.

—

Prom that night was held in the ballroom of a very expensive hotel—I knew how expensive it was because I had booked a room for me and my girlfriend. We had been dating for just under three months and finally, at long last, she had agreed to have sex with me. Thank god for prom, because without it I'd probably be waiting another whole three months.

Her name was Jessica. She had been my bestfriend before she'd been my girlfriend, and her reluctance to get physical probably had something to do with the fact that she wasn't a lesbian. Even getting a kiss out of her had been a huge drama of denial before we'd actually hooked up. But I really liked her and she really liked me, and we really did have a strange kind of chemistry. I'd read on the internet that it was kind of a waste of time to date a straight chick, but she was really cute and it's not like I was awash with options. Sure, it was a little frustrating, but if she put out tonight at prom—like she promised—then it would all be worth it. We had done some mild experimenting together, just a little kissing and petting, and she really seemed to be getting used to it.

It was our junior prom, and we walked in with our hands clasped, both of us in our dresses, high heeled and with our hair styled. I was almost in awe. It was an extravagant affair, almost like a wedding reception or a movie premier. Chandeliers were twinkling overhead and there were tables with white tablecloths and white roses in slender glass vases. Music was playing and the dancefloor was already packed.

"Wow," I whispered, giving her hand a squeeze. "Isn't it beautiful?"

She looked about and shrugged. "Meh."

"Jess, come on," I said. "I've always dreamed about junior prom and I really want this to be special, so can you at least pretend to be excited?"

"Alright, alright," she said. "It's just weird, that's all. I've dreamed about prom too, I just never pictured it with a chick."

I grinned widely and pulled her closer to me, wrapping my arm around hers. "I always pictured it like this," I said. "Just me and you. Thanks a lot for being my girlfriend, Jess. This really is a dream come true for me."

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, yeah," she said. "Let's not start going down on each other just yet."

I giggled and we continued into the ballroom, arm in arm, like two princesses.

The first thing we did was meet up with friends so I could lie about how awesome their dresses were while secretly gloating over mine. I had designed it myself—fashion design is my calling in life—and sewn it on a sewing machine imported from Switzerland for my birthday last year.

It was possibly the most scandalous dress in the whole ballroom. The fabric was deep red, thin and soft, and it was so short it barely covered my ass. It was also very tight, tight enough to cling to every curve on my cute little body. The bodice was off the shoulder and the bust was arrayed with ruby beading that cost over a hundred dollars alone. My shoes were red leather, bought especially to compliment the dress, and the heels were a full four inches long. Together with my short black hair I liked to think I projected the image of a spunky little pixie demon. All I was missing was horns and a little tail with a loveheart on the tip.

I liked to think I was the hotter of the pair, but Jess really was very cute as well. Her dress was blue, skyblue, and the skirt was voluminous and bellshaped. Her hair was blonde and straight, almost platinum. She was about same height as me, which was pretty short, and her body was slim and cute—also like me. I wish one of us had bigger tits, but we were barely seventeen, so I guess you got to take what you can get.

Either way, we were easily the hottest couple at prom. Easily. We weren't the only same-sex couple, but the other couple was two boys. One of them was a nerd with glasses, not really cute at all, and the other one actually wore a dress and make up. He'd probably get prom queen on sympathy votes, but in all honesty, he wasn't much competition. And the straight couples were just straight couples.

To be honest, I loved the distinction of being an attractive teenage lesbian, and I had never taken much trouble to hide it or make excuses for it. I was loud and proud, and soon I was out on the dancefloor with my girlfriend, twirling her about and pawing at her waist, grinning and even grabbing at her ass. She hissed at me to stop it and got all embarrassed, but that only made me do it more. People were glancing and commenting, but it didn't bother me. I revelled in the smirks of boys and the consternation of other girls and the frowns of disapproval from teachers. I tried not to go too far, but I couldn't help it. I'm an attention whore.

After the dance I danced with a couple other friends as well. One of them was Jasper. He was my bestfriend and originally I was supposed to go to prom with him, just as friends, but then I'd gotten Jess to agree to go with me. He was a senior and the quarterback on the football team. I was a cheerleader. In any other universe we would've made a perfect couple. He always had a pretty massive crush on me, which was kind of flattering if nothing else. It was almost a shame I wasn't into boys, because he was really tall and good looking, with long blonde hair in a ponytail, and he was really popular too.

But he was perfectly happy to be friend-zoned. Well, mostly. He grabbed my ass on the dancefloor, and I realized how Jess must've felt. I slapped him away and hissed at him to stop it, and after the dance was over we went to get some punch.

Jasper poured mine, gallantly, and I took it from him with a roll of my eyes. Jessica was across the ballroom, chatting to some of her friends. She had been a little eager to get away from me and I guess I could give her a breather for a bit. I wished dating a girl wasn't so weird for her. I sighed and sipped my punch, holding the cup in both hands and gazing at her across the rim, at the blueness of her dress, at how her skirt rustled when she laughed. She really was very pretty.

"Fruity punch," Jasper said, smacking his lips against the taste.

"It's strawberries, I think," I said, taking another sip of the pink liquid.

Jasper drank, grimaced, and decided not to drink again. He shook his head and turned to me. "So tonight's the night, huh?"

"Mmhm," I said, still watching my lovely girlfriend across the ballroom. "I can't wait. She looks so hot tonight, doesn't she? I don't even know if I can control myself. I wanna just rip her dress off and eat her out right on the dancefloor."

"Sad thing is, you'd probably do it."

I giggled and sipped my punch. Jasper looked at his cup doubtfully and took one more sip, wincing. He shook his head and put the cup down on the table. He wiped his hands on the sides of his tuxedo pants and looked at me.

"So when are you girls gonna be ready to get out of here?"

"Soon," I said. "Hopefully."

"Good, because I'm only hanging around while you are. After I rent the room for you, I'm outta here."

"Thanks again for doing it, Jazz. I would've done it myself, but I'm not eighteen."

"Don't thank me," he said. "You're the one paying for it."

I chuckled at that, reminded of the price. I'd been working part time at a fashion boutique store, and the room had cost almost two whole paychecks. Jess better be worth it, because I'm gonna be broke for weeks.

"Hey, tell you what," Jasper said with a grin, "how about I pay for half and you let me join in?"

I grinned right back. "Or how about you pay for the whole thing and I let you just watch?"

"Deal."

He stuck out his hand and I slapped it away.

"I was kidding, jackass!"

He chuckled and took up his cup again from the table, although he didn't drink. He just held it. I shook my head at him. I mean, I lik to think I'm a sexually free person, but not _that_ free. Then again, I've never even had sex before, so what would I know?

Jasper and I looked out across the dancefloor for a moment. It was getting late and the DJ was winding it down a little, but there were still plenty of people dancing. I was moving my hips to the music, just swaying them, and boy was I really horny.

Jasper turned back to me. "So how are you feeling about tonight, anyway? Feeling confident?"

"Yeah," I said, sipping and nodding. "I think so. Jess is still very nervous, although I can't understand why. It's actually kind of insulting how I have to beg her to have sex with me. She probably wouldn't do it at all if it wasn't prom."

"What did you expect? She's straight. You should be flattered she even likes you."

"Yeah, I guess, but it's still pretty shitty. Makes me wonder if I'm not as hot as I think I am."

"Now you're just being silly. You look incredible."

I smiled and preened a little in my dress. It was automatic, I couldn't even stop myself. A twist of my foot, a tilt of my hips, elbows tucked and the cup held daintily in one hand.

"You think so?" I asked.

"Mm," he said, frowning at my body as if the sight of it was powerful to him. "Are you kidding? Your ass is driving me crazy right now. Look at that thing, damn."

He leaned to get a good look. I could imagine what it looked like, all wrapped up in the thin red fabric of my dress, round and heartshaped. Not to mention my bare legs, all slim and sexy. I giggled and turned away before he could leer.

"Thanks, it's the dress," I said. "I just wish Jess would say things like that."

"She probably just needs a bit of time, that's all."

"Probably. Although if it was you I was dating I probably wouldn't have to beg you to have sex with me, would I?"

He smirked and sipped. "You'd only have to beg me to stop."

I giggled and leaned against him provocatively, a brush of my bare shoulder in my gaudy dress like a courtesan. "Oh, Jazz," I sighed, gazing up at him. "Sometimes I wish I was straight, but then again, maybe I wouldn't have to be. I've always been a sucker for blondes."

He stiffened—perhaps in his pants as well. "Are you flirting with me?" he asked suspiciously.

"Maybe," I said, bright eyed and coy. I touched one of the buttons on his shirt. "You're pretty cute in a tuxedo and I really am kind of desperate."

"Oh boy," he said, laughing and pushing me away gently. "I think the punch might be spiked."

I rocked back on my heels and swatted his shoulder playfully. "Aww, I'm only playing," I said. "I gotta flirt with somebody."

He smirked at me haughtily. "Save it for the girlfriend, alright? You're practically a dude to me."

My eyes flared.

Dude?

I mean, I know my hair's short, but _dude_?

Well I never. I knew he was only joking, but I pretended to be mad anyway, narrowing my mascaraed eyes at him and setting my lipsticked lips, standing there angrily in my tiny red dress and red leather heels. Dude indeed. I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but then the song changed.

I paused suddenly to listen, as if I'd heard a dog whistle. It was a low note romantic ballad with a female vocalist.

"You hear that?"

"The song?"

"It's Jessica's favourite," I said, smiling. "I requested it."

Jessica had paused as well. She was still standing with her small group of friends, over by one of the tables, and now she looked up as her favourite song filled the ballroom. She looked about quickly and her eyes landed on me. She could see in my face that it was me who requested it and she smiled at me. I passed my punch glass to Jasper and grinned.

"I'm gonna have her so wet that by the time we hit the room she won't even remember she's straight," I said, and then I winked and sailed away.

"Go get her," Jazz called.

I shot him a smile over my shoulder—he was watching my ass again—and continued on.

Jess smiled when she saw me coming and all her friends rolled their eyes, jealous that none of their own boyfriends had the romantic sensibility to request them a song, let alone rent them a room for perfect first time sex. Suck it, straight bitches. I offered Jess a hand, right in front of her friends, and she took it. She made a show of rolling her eyes and telling them she'll be right back, but I could tell she was swept off her feet.

I took her out onto the dancefloor and we moved into each other's arms. A slow dance, with her hand on my shoulder and my hand on her waist, swaying softly underneath the chandeliers, smiling at each other and perfectly eyelevel. I was tempted to spoil it with an ill-timed ass grab, but I managed to restrain myself. Instead I allowed the song to finish and then I leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on her lips.

Which was probably worse.

Jess had been smiling, but she panicked slightly when she saw my lips coming at her. But she let me kiss her without shoving me away and afterwards she didn't even wipe her mouth, which I thought was very sweet of her. I giggled and went to kiss her again, thinking it would loosen her up, but this time she did put a restraining hand on me.

"Alice, stop," she said. "Not where everyone can see."

She was glancing about nervously, but no one was staring. They'd seen it all before. At this point in the night, it was no big deal. But I didn't want to argue, so I took her hand and tugged her gently.

"Then let's get out of here," I said. "I'm sick of waiting."

More panic, as she realized that when I said 'get out of here,' what I really meant was 'go have sex.' I guess the song dedication hadn't moistened her up as much as I hoped it would.

"I thought you wanted to dance?" she asked, stopping on the edge of the dancefloor.

I turned to her and gave her a big cute pout. "I'm sick of dancing," I said, and then I put my hands at her waist and turned the pout into a smirk. "Come on, Jess. Aren't you just a little bit excited to get me naked? It's gonna be awesome, I promise."

A reluctant smile moved over her mouth. Her eyes flickered over my dress and away again, and finally she snorted under her breath and shook her head.

"Fine," she said.

I grinned brightly. "So we can go?"

"Yeah, let's go."

"Awesome," I giggled. "Come on, let's go find Jazz."

I grabbed her hand again and led her off the dancefloor.

We found Jasper in a darkened corner, chatting up some brunette who was leaning coyly against one of the tall marble columns that held up the balcony above. I interrupted him, very inconsiderately, and told him we were ready to go. He told the girl he'd be back in a minute and she shot me dagger eyes. I smirked and hoped Jasper would nail her later.

The lobby of the hotel was mostly empty this late at night, aside from the occasional prom couple drifting by in dresses and tuxedos. The floor was polished marble and I made sure to step loudly so that my heels clicked. I liked that sound. There was a chandelier in the ceiling and off to the side there was a bar area were some adults were having drinks.

The front desk was polished hardwood, and Jasper went right up and spoke to the receptionist, a woman in a black suit with a gold name plate on her lapel.

"Hi, I have a reservation," he said. "Jasper Hale."

"One moment please," she said, and began tapping at her keyboard.

Jasper leaned an elbow on the counter and smiled at us. I was smiling too, smiling and clinging to my girlfriend's arm like an overexcited prom date—which is exactly what I was. Jess looked about the lobby and sighed. She looked like she might be sick.

"God, I can't believe I'm going to do this," she said.

I giggled and hugged her arm tighter. "Just relax," I said. "It's gonna be great, trust me."

Jasper gave me a wink before turning back to the receptionist. I smiled and looked across the lobby. The bar area was over there and I saw something that made my smile slowly fade into open mouthed shock.

It was a woman. With black hair and a black dress. She was sitting on a stool at the bar. She had her legs crossed and there was a split in her dress which draped aside and revealed a long swath of pure white skin.

My heart was thumping in my chest, my ears, my throat. I couldn't believe it.

She looked exactly like the woman from my dreams.

_Exactly._

A rush of sheer joy went through me which quickly flowed into an indescribable longing. I'd always had an affinity for dark hair and pale skin, as my dreams frequently reminded me, but I had never seen it so perfectly in real life. I couldn't believe it. She truly looked exactly like the woman in my dream. Everything, from the shape of her shoulders to the bounce in her blueblack hair.

I'd even dreamed about that dress once. Even at this distance I could almost feel it in my hands. Heavy velvet, rich black, her breasts swelling all white and huge in the sweetheart neckline of the bodice.

My throat was closing over. Dimly, as if in the distance, I could hear Jasper and Jessica talking to the receptionist. But I couldn't understand them. All I could do was stare. I had even let go of Jessica's arm. I was staring, and maybe she could feel my eyes because slowly she turned. Slightly, on the stool. Her eyes landed on me and it was like she had known I was there. She didn't look at anything else. Just me.

My body went hot and the breath rushed out of me. Her eyes were so dark. Black. God, she was gorgeous. Exactly like my dream, exactly. She looked at me, her eyes moving up and down, and then she smiled. A subtle tilt of her rubyred lips. My heart contracted in my chest and then she lifted a martini glass and sipped it. Then she turned back to the bar.

I finally managed to look away, but I was a complete mess. My pulse was racing and I was even breathing a little heavy.

"Alice," came Jasper's dim voice. "Yo. Alice."

They were staring at me. I looked at them.

"Huh?"

Jasper gave me a weird look. He had the keycard in his hand and we were moving away from the front desk a little, toward the elevator bank. Away from the bar. I had a wild urge to glance back at the woman, suddenly unsure if she was real or if I was seeing things, but I didn't.

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?" Jessica asked, half hopefully.

I finally snapped out of it and chuckled. "Oh no you don't," I said, snatching the keycard from Jasper. "You're not getting out of it that easily."

She smiled guiltily. Jasper chuckled.

"Listen, are you sure you girls don't want me to join in?" he asked. "It might make Jessica more comfortable to have a guy there."

Jess snorted. If the idea of doing it with a girl was difficult, the idea of a threeway was impossible. This was not an adventurous girl. "Thanks," she said sarcastically. "But I think I'll be alright."

Jasper smiled and held up his hands defensively. "Just trying to help," he said. "Anyway, I'm out of here. Don't trash the room, it's under my name. You got that?"

"Yes, daddy," I said, rolling my eyes.

He shook his head, smiling, and started walking back to prom.

"Come on, Jess," I said, taking her arm. "Let's go."

Jess nodded awkwardly and allowed me to drag her away.

Me and Jess practically skipped up to the elevator—or maybe it was just me skipping—and I tapped at the button excitedly. The doors were gold and shiny and I giggled as they opened. We stepped in and I hit the button for our floor. Jess sighed. I looked out as the doors began to close and before they shut completely I caught a glimpse of that figure at the bar, the woman with black hair who looked so similar to the woman of my dreams.

The room wasn't quite five star, but it was close enough. I swiped the keycard and we went in, me smiling and excited, her nervous and clutching her purse. The décor was white and stylish, with cream carpet and taupe curtains. The curtains were open and through the window there was a view of the nightscape over the city all the way to the bay beyond. Even Jess seemed impressed.

"Wow," she said. "Cool room."

I nodded eagerly. "I know, right? I just wish we could get some alcohol too. I should've got Jasper to buy us something. He looks old enough. They probably wouldn't even ask for ID. But oh well, doesn't matter."

There was a large TV mounted in the wall and two beds, each covered with a white bedspread. I wandered between them and put my purse on the nightstand. I giggled and turned on the lamp.

"Two beds," I said, blushing and turning to Jess. "But we'll only need one, right?"

She was standing there with an overwhelmed look on her face. "I guess so."

I giggled again and jumped backwards onto the bed, bouncing, one of my shoes flying off. I giggled some more and rolled onto a hip to give my girlfriend a saucy smirk.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get over here."

She smiled and took off her shoes before climbing awkwardly onto the bed. I took off my remaining shoe too and tossed it aside, shifting onto my knees to meet her, grinning and watching her. I couldn't believe it was finally happening. Me and Jess, just like I always wanted.

I pressed my lips to hers right away, before she was even settled on the bed, and I felt a rush of warmth go through me. It wasn't the first time I kissed a girl, but it was still very new and exciting. Her lips were so soft and small. I had no experience with boys to compare it to, but I could imagine how much better this was. I cupped her cheek and kissed at her mouth eagerly, my heart going wild.

"Mmm," I moaned. "I've been waiting for this so long. I love you, Jess."

It was the first time I'd ever said it, but it wasn't as romantic as I would've hoped. She had paused to adjust her skirt—she was kneeling on it awkwardly—and all she did was flash a slightly surprised smile at my declaration.

"Oh," she said. "I love you too."

She said it as if we were still just friends, and I had to giggle at how the moment just crashed and burned. But I didn't care. I was horny and it was all about the sex. Fuck love, I'll take her body.

And on that note I kissed her again, pecking at her lips to try and get her in the mood. I really hoped this wasn't too bad for her. I really wanted her to have fun too. I kissed her some more and finally captured her lips properly.

Her mouth opened and I took the opportunity to slip her some tongue, just tentatively. She made a weird noise, but she didn't slap me and run out the room, so I gave her a bit more. Her mouth was hot and wet and tasted like fruit punch. I kissed her deeper, moaning, and finally broke away.

"Oh god," I said, grinning uncontrollably. "This is so hot. Hey, wanna take some pictures quickly?"

She wiped her mouth and said: "Pictures?"

"Yeah, I wanted to get some pictures of us making out in our dresses. Do you mind? It would be so hot!"

"Do we have to?"

"_Pleeeease_?"

I gave her my wide kitten eyes and she finally relented with an eye roll.

"Fine," she said, "let's just hurry up."

I planted another kiss on her lips, and then I giggled and sprang off the bed, grabbing my purse from the nightstand.

We went into the bathroom to use the mirror over the sink. I was so excited the phone was almost trembling in my hand. Jess still seemed reluctant, but she didn't put up a fuss. She stiffened a bit as I put my arm around her and drew her into the mirror, but that was all.

I grinned at our reflection. We really did make an amazingly cute couple, in an 'opposites attract' kind of way. Me in red, her in blue. Her with her hair long and blonde, me with my hair short and black. Her straight, me gay. I giggled and lifted the phone to take the picture.

"Okay," I said, "make sure your tongue's out. Ready?"

She rolled her eyes, but she let me do it. It was a little awkward, but the hardest part for me was not bursting into giggles. We kissed and then turned slightly to the mirror, watching our reflection as our tongues extended and touched between our open mouths. Our cheeks were pressed together and I could feel the heat of her blush even over mine. I licked my tongue against hers and snapped the picture.

Jess broke the kiss right away and made a small show of being disgruntled. I giggled and quickly looked at the picture to check how it came out. A wide grin spread over my lips and I nodded at it. It was perfect, our tongues perfectly entwined and ours eyes perfectly narrowed, all sexied up with our makeup and prom dresses.

"Oh yeah," I said. "That's so hot. Jazz is gonna love it."

I was already sending it to him. Jess frowned.

"You're not sending it to him, are you?"

I laughed and typed out a quick text to go with it. "It's just a kiss," I said. "Trust me, he's seen worse on the internet. And it's not like he doesn't jerk off about me already."

Jess cringed at that, but she might've assumed I was joking. "Just make sure he doesn't show anyone else," she said. "I don't want that shit getting around school."

"Why not? I'm gonna tell everyone we had sex, anyway."

"You better not."

"Oh, loosen up," I said, giggling. "Come on, take off your dress."

Jess folded her arms and didn't budge. I grinned.

"Jess, come on. You promised, remember?"

She sighed and loosened her arms. I smiled, still with the phone in my hand, and watched as she unzipped her dress and pushed it down. I took a picture just as she bent over to pick up the dress, a lovely little snapshot of her cleavage in her strapless blue bra. Her panties were blue as well and I took another picture after she folded the dress and put it on the counter.

"Wow," I said, letting my eyes rake over her soft looking skin. "I've seen you naked in the locker room a million times, but never like this. Are you as turned on as I am?"

"Not really."

"Seriously?"

She had her hands on her hips and she shrugged. I grinned; her nonchalant attitude was beginning to turn me on even more.

"Come on," I said, "this is so hot. How can it not be hot to you?"

"I'm just nervous, that's all."

"We'll go slow, okay? You'll like it, I promise."

I put a hand on her shoulder and touched the skin there, showing her how slow I could go. She smiled and I moved in for a kiss. I let my hand roam her back, over her smooth skin and the rough strap of her bra. She seemed to like it and I was still kissing her when my phone buzzed.

I broke the kiss to check, holding the phone in both hands. I read the text and giggled.

"Who is it?"

"It's Jazz."

"What's it say?"

I turned the phone for her to see. The text said:

_fap fap fap_

"Ugh," Jess groaned. "What a creep."

I giggled again and looked up at her excitedly. "Hey, do you want to send him a nude one? He'll fucking faint."

"No!" Jess blurted, snatching the phone away from me and stuffing it back into my purse. "No more pictures, okay? Jeez."

"Oh fine," I said, and grabbed her hand. "Come on, let's get in bed."

Smiling, I took her back to the room and began taking off my dress. Jess turned back the bedcovers and got into the bed in her underwear, sitting back against the pillow to watch me.

Her expression wasn't quite as lust-filled as I would've liked, but I gave her a little show anyway, giggling as I did a little stripper spin while slipping off the shoulder strap. The dress unzipped down the side and I pushed the bodice down over my strapless bra—red with silicone padding—and then further down to my waist, pausing there for a moment before revealing my underwear.

"You know, I've got a surprise for you," I said.

She looked nervous. "What surprise?"

I turned my back to her and bent over and sensuously lowered the dress, wriggling my hips for leverage and revealing the red lace thong I was wearing that I had bought specifically for tonight.

"Ta da," I giggled, smoothing me hands against my hips to display my ass. "What do you think?"

Jess seemed speechless. And maybe a little queasy. I kind of liked it.

"Wow," she said finally. "That's…"

She trailed off and I had to giggle. I did a twirl and showed her the front as well. I felt ridiculously sexy wearing it—it was basically just a little triangle of lace over my horny little pussy—and I didn't really mind that she couldn't properly appreciate it.

Instead I just hurried up and climbed into the bed, throwing back the covers. I didn't turn off the lights. I wanted to see everything. Jess shifted away from me slightly, as if to make room, but I was on her like an animal, straddling her hips and pressing my mouth onto hers.

"Mmm," I moaned, wasting no time in deepening the kiss.

At first she only responded a little. I figured she would need a little more time to get into it, so I didn't do anything drastic. I just kissed her, right on her mouth, moaning and letting her know how much I liked it. I could feel her hands touching my back tentatively, and I arched my body into hers to encourage her. The covers were bundled up somewhere around our feet and I could feel the air on my almost naked ass. One of her hands ventured lower and made a grab at it. But something about it must've turned her off because she broke the kiss suddenly and coughed awkwardly.

"You okay?" I asked breathlessly.

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "Yeah, I'm just…"

I was getting a little impatient now—and a little wounded, too. She wasn't even breathing hard. She looked like she'd been kissing a mannequin.

"What?" I demanded. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, shrugging underneath me. "Nothing, I just…"

I could see I was losing her, for real this time, and I groaned loudly. The throb between my legs was receding at her reluctance and I really didn't want that.

"Come on, Jess," I urged. "You promised. You said you wanted to."

"I did," she said, and then changed her mind a little. "I do, I just…"

"Just what? What's wrong?"

"It doesn't matter, just keep going."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright."

The night already felt ruined and I wasn't even sure if I was in the mood anymore. But I gave it one last shot, pressing our lips together and rubbing my body against hers. It didn't feel the same, but eventually I began to heat up again. I moaned, getting back into it, and I licked her lips to request entry.

But her mouth didn't open. I tried again, thinking she just needed a bit more encouragement, and this time it did open. I brushed my tongue against hers. Her tongue didn't move, and my heart sank when I realized that she wasn't really kissing me back. She was kind of just lying there.

I stopped kissing her and raised up a little.

"Jess?" I asked.

"I'm sorry," she said, squirming out from under me. "I'm sorry, I just…"

Well, that's it.

It's over.

I groaned inwardly and collapsed onto the bed. My face landed in the pillow and I sobbed into it wretchedly, beating the mattress limply with a balled fist. My pussy was burning with frustration and my heart was burning with something else. Humiliation. It was almost like a cruel joke.

I sat and looked at Jess. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and she was wiping her mouth. She still looked so sexy, half naked in nothing but her bra and panties, her blonde reaching all the way past her bra strap. I sighed and shuffled over to sit beside her.

"Sorry," she said, glancing at me guiltily. "I thought I could do it, but…"

My shoulder slumped, but I still had a tiny flicker of hope. I gave her a smile and said: "Are you sure? Maybe if I…"

I was taking off my bra. It was a desperate move, but I truly was desperate. The latch was in the front and my breasts were revealed instantly. And they really were perfect, even without the padding. Not too big, not too small. Just plump little tits with big nipples.

It gave me a surge of horniness to expose them, and I could only hope that Jess felt something similar. But she only looked at them as if they were half revolting to her. She had never seen them like this, and she had only touched them through my shirt.

But this was my last chance, and it was now or never for her to get better acquainted with them. So I took her hand and placed it on my chest. Her touch sent a wave of heat all over my sensitive skin, but her fingers were cold and they didn't really respond. I raised my eyebrows hopefully and held her hand on my boob. She shook her head reluctantly and retracted her hand.

I almost burst into tears.

Literally.

Oh my god, how humiliating. I wanted to throw myself onto the bed and cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab her and shake her like a ragdoll and demand why doesn't she want me. But most of all I just wanted to fuck. I did, I really did.

Jess had stood up and now she was picking up her shoes. I stared at her body poutily. Frigid bitch. Once she had her shoes, she tucked them under her arm and disappeared into the bathroom where her dress was. I sigh and then I stood up to fetch my own shoes.

I didn't bother putting my bra back on, I just shoved it into my purse. My dress was laying there on the floor and suddenly it didn't seem so sexy anymore. It seemed sad and discarded, crumpled there on the carpet. I picked it up and slipped it over my head.

Jess came back into the room as I was putting on my shoes. She was back in her dress and at least she had the decency to look guilty.

"I have to get out of here," she said. "I'll get a ride with Ange. I'm really sorry, Alice. I'll pay you back for the room, I promise."

That hurt too, but not as much as everything else. To think I'd even fantasized about anal fingering tonight. I didn't even get to touch her tits properly. But I'm nothing if not a lady, so I shrugged it away and pretended it was no big deal.

"It's alright," I said. "It's not your fault. If you're not ready, you're not ready. I understand."

She smiled sadly. "I ruined your prom, didn't I?"

I smiled sadly too. "Kind of, yeah."

She looked down, but she was happy I wasn't too upset. Not outwardly, at least. She looked about the room and swayed softly. Her skirt swayed with her. I heaved a sigh.

"Does this mean we're over as girlfriends?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," she said. "Let's just see how it goes, okay? I still love you, I just…"

I nodded. She nodded as well. Then she smiled and placed a kiss on the corner of my mouth, just barely touching my lips.

"Can I call you tomorrow?" she asked.

I nodded, somewhat heartened by the sexy little kiss. At least it felt sexy to me. She smiled again and then she moved past me and opened the door. She looked back once, still smiling, and then she went out and closed the door behind her.

I sank down on the bed and looked about the expensive hotel room with my hands in my lap. I huffed and pouted.

So much for prom.

—

By the time I went back downstairs I had almost forgotten about the woman with black hair.

I had been planning to return to prom and find Jasper. Mostly to cry on his shoulder about my ruined first time and maybe ask him to put on a dress and have sex with me. He had long hair, which might've been close enough to a girl for the mood I was in. But I never made it back to the ballroom. Because as I was coming out of the elevator I looked up and saw her.

The woman from my dreams.

Those same feelings washed over me all over again, that same crazy wave on wave of recognition and amazement. Black hair, black dress, oh my god. She was still at the bar, sitting in exactly the same stool with her legs still crossed in that exact same attitude. Even the drink in her hand seemed not to have decreased or diminished. She looked as if she hadn't moved at all the whole time I was upstairs. She looked as if she had been waiting there for me to come back down again. She looked like she had been sitting there all night. All night and all day, perhaps for weeks, just waiting for me to come along. As if there was no other reason in the world for her to be there but for me to see. To see and to…

…go over to her?

The idea popped into my head in a wild burst of audaciousness. I mean, why not? What did I have to lose? Nothing, really. Sure, there was no chance at all she would be interested in me. After all, this was an actual person, not a figment of my sexual imagination. Statistically speaking, there was a ninety nine percent chance she was completely straight. It was also logical to assume that such a beautiful woman was likely to already be in a relationship. Adding to all this was the fact that I was an underage highschool girl and she was a grown adult, and there really was no point at all going over.

I even had a girlfriend, technically. But I didn't care. My heart seemed to be singing in my chest and I didn't care if I would only embarrass myself. It wouldn't be the first time I'd be humiliated tonight, and it would definitely be worth it, even just to get a closer look at her. I had to do it. It felt like I didn't even have a choice. This was the woman of my dreams, and I didn't care if it was inappropriate. I was gonna go over there and hit as hard as I could on the sexy bitch.

So I did. My feet began to move. I felt lighter than air, giddy, dizzy, teetering on euphoria. I couldn't believe I was actually going over, but I was. I was even smiling.

The bar was mostly empty aside from her. I wasn't capable of looking at anyone else, anyway. The emotions I was feeling grew more and more intense the closer I got to her until my skin seemed to be squealing. The bar was dimly lit with lamps overhead and the light didn't even seem to touch her hair. There was no shine or shimmer to it, just depthless black. Same as her dress. Nothing reflected in that rich black velvet. I was coming around to her side and I could see her arm. So white and slender. A diamond bracelet around her wrist. My eyes moved to her face and she turned as she noticed me there.

My heart stopped.

Up close like this it was truly uncanny. She looked exactly as I had always dreamed and pictured her. She was impossibly beautiful and her every feature seemed to call to me. Fine boned and pale. So pale. Her skin was white and utterly perfect and her high cheek bones and upturned nose gave her an air of majesty, like a queen. Her eyes were as black as her hair and there was no light in them either. But it was the look in them that made me blush so hard.

It was like she recognize me.

Not the same way I recognized her, but recognized me simply as if she had seen a few times before. As if she really had been waiting for me. It was ridiculous to think so, but that's what it felt like. She didn't seem alarmed or surprised at all to see me there. She only smiled. The red curve of her lips almost made my heart burst and my voice came out in a strange gush.

"Hi," I breathed.

I was surprised I even said anything. She arched a perfectly black eyebrow and didn't answer. I couldn't blame her. What exactly does a woman say to weird girls who approach her in a bar for no real reason?

I didn't know, I just giggled like an idiot. I was blushing so badly it hurt my face. But I figured I should at least make another attempt, and in a sudden burst of inspiration, I said:

"This is really weird, but, um…do I know you? I feel like I've seen you before. Are you on TV, or…?"

It came out lame, very very lame, but happily it seemed to amuse her. She looked at me and gave a subtle shake of her head.

"I don't think so," she said.

I gushed another giggle and tried not to smile so ridiculously. "Oh," I said, lacing my hands behind my back coyly. "Maybe it was just in a dream."

I was smirking as I said it, blushing like a beacon but with a studied boldness, as if she might even catch the meaning. That was impossible, of course, but she smiled nonetheless. Smiled and turned back to the bar.

"Maybe," she said, taking up her martini glass. "What's your name?"

"Alice."

"Alice," she repeated, looking at me as if wondering if that was the correct name after all.

"Yep," I giggled. "What's yours?"

She sipped her drink and didn't answer. A slow sip. Sensuous. She held the stem of the glass delicately and her fingers were long and white and there was a diamond ring on one of them. I watched her sip and I watched her lower the glass again.

"Alice," she said again. "What are you doing here, Alice?"

"What do you mean?"

"Were you at the prom?"

"Yeah."

"I thought so," she said, and then she let her eyes move over my dress. I had a wild urge to take it off for her—along with my underwear—but I managed to restrain myself. She looked me over from the tips of my red leather shoes to the top of my ruby red décolletage, and smiled. "You must've been the belle of the ball in a dress like that," she said. "You look gorgeous."

"Thanks," I said, actually modest for once. "I designed it myself."

"Impressive," she said, looking me over again. My bare legs tingled as her eyes roamed over them. "It's very…daring."

I bit my lip and blushed, wondering if that was a regular kind of compliment or if there was something more to it. If pheromones were a real thing, I was certainly wafting them in her direction. Could she tell I liked her and she was trying to flirt?

The woman looked out across the lobby, where a teenage couple was going by, and then she turned back to me. "Is prom over?"

"No, but me and my girlfriend left early," I said. "We got a room together, but…"

I was watching for her reaction to the fact that I had a girlfriend, but she didn't seem to have one. She leaned an elbow on the bar and placed her chin in her palm.

"But what?" she asked.

One of my shoulders was partially covered the strap of my dress and the other one was bare. I shrugged the bare one. "She chickened out," I said.

"Did she? Well. Her loss."

"Yeah," I agreed, and then gave another little shrug. "Mine too, though. I really liked her. I wouldn't say I loved her, but you know. She was my best friend. I guess I should've known better. She was never into girls. Not like me, anyway."

I was still watching for her reaction, but none of it seemed to even slightly ruffle her unearthly façade. She smiled and lifted her glass. She sipped, keeping her eyes on me, and said:

"You like girls, do you?"

"Yeah," I admitted.

"Hmm," she purred.

And that's it. That seemed to be her entire reaction. I couldn't even begin to read it. Obviously it didn't bother her, but—

Was she turned on?

Because that's kind of what it seemed like. Was that even possible? I guess it was. Maybe. Lots of chicks liked a little lady loving, even straight ones, and it's not like I was being discreet. I was practically throwing myself at her, and I really am very cute. Adorable, really, and sexy too. She could have me if she wanted me, easily, obviously, but—

Did she want me?

Now it was _her_ watching _my_ reaction. I didn't know what I looked like, but she smiled and tilted her head slightly. "Are you okay, Alice?" she asked, using my name as if we were close friends. "You look a little warm. Maybe you need a drink to help you cool down."

I chuckled, and shook my head at the rows of bottles behind the bar. "I'm not old enough to drink," I said. "I wasn't even old enough to get a room, I had to get my best friend to do it."

She made a soft sound of amusement in her throat and rose from the stool. The movement seemed so dramatic after such imperial poise that I almost fell over.

I actually did stumble back slightly, my heart racing. I had caught a glimpse of her thigh through the split in her dress and quickly raised my eyes. She was almost a full head taller than me. It surprised me. She had the half empty martini glass in her hand and she tilted it back in one swallow. I looked at her tits while she was distracted. They were amazing.

Her purse was sitting on the bar and she picked it up after placing down her glass. I was afraid she was going to go, but she didn't. She turned to me, smiling a mysterious smile, and said:

"Why don't we go up to my room? I have a penthouse suite where we can share a bottle of champagne in private and maybe get to know each other a little. What do you say?"

My mouth was open. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't even remember how to speak.

"Err…"

"Well?"

"I don't know," I said, a glimmer of hesitation finally breaking through the impossible attraction I felt to her. "I don't even know you."

"But I thought you said you did?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, beautifully. "What was it you said? That you saw me in a dream?"

A dazed chuckle came out of me. I had said that, hadn't I? And it was true, too. Was I dreaming right now? How could any of this be real? Was she really…?

"It's up to you," she said, watching me, arms folded under her heavy breasts. "Tell me."

I chuckled again, taken utterly by surprise. I had no idea if I was dreaming or not, but did it really matter?

"Okay," I blurted.

She smiled and inclined her head slightly. As if I had made a wise decision. "Excellent," she said. "Come with me."

I nodded, but for a full few seconds I couldn't even move. She went on ahead and I stared at her, at her long black hair and her long black dress, at how her hips rolled richly under that rich black velvet. She didn't look back to see if I was following her, but she didn't have to. I snapped out of my trance and quickly scampered up beside her, me in red, her in black, like a little demon girl at the elbow of some dark angel.

We rode the elevator to the very top floor. The walls were shiny gold and I watched our reflections in silence as I tried to keep still. I could smell her perfume and I felt like any minute I would explode and start bouncing around the elevator like a pinball.

Was this really happening?

I guess I should've been a little more nervous. After all, this woman could've been anyone. She hadn't even told me her name. And if we're being honest, it really was kind of suspicious. I mean, what kind of woman can so casually seduce a minor with promises of champagne in her private penthouse? At the very least you'd have to admit she didn't seem to have much respect for the legal age of consent. But I wasn't worried. Well, maybe a little, but I didn't care. She was the hottest thing I ever seen, and even if she turned out to be some kind of black widow, well, that's a chance me and my pussy were willing to take.

Her room was indeed the penthouse. The presidential suite, to be precise. It was five times as large as my room downstairs, almost as large as a whole house. She walked right in and I lingered for a little bit, gazing around. She turned the lights on low and there was a dim cast to the room. There was a white leather sofa and a white oval coffeetable. A bouquet of lavender in a vase. The windows looked out over the sea which was black and heaving in the moonlight.

She was on the phone, ordering the champagne. I watched her, clutching my purse in both hands like an awkward prom date. She smiled at me and hung up the phone.

"Sit down, sit down," she said, waving a hand at the sofa. "I'll be right back."

Then she disappeared into the bathroom.

I was practically paralysed, but somehow or other, I made my feet move to the sofa. My body was light and airy. I sat on the sofa and shivered at how cool the leather was under my bare legs. Suddenly I felt like a total slut and I really liked the feeling. I was about to have sex with a total stranger. What a bad girl. It was even illegal, on her side at least, assuming she was over eighteen which was a fair assumption considering her cup size. What did they call it when an adult has sex with a minor? Statutory rape. That shouldn't sound so exciting, but it kind of did. It made me grin and bite my lip coyly.

She was in the bathroom for a long time and she came out just as the champagne arrived, as if she had somehow known. The bottle came in an ice filled winebucket on a sliver trolley. The waiter, or whatever he was called, wheeled it in and left it by the coffeetable. He glanced at me, and I was half worried he might ask for ID or something, but he might've assumed I was a cousin or sister or something. The woman dismissed him with a tip and he gave a little bow—glancing at her cleavage, the fucking pig—and promptly left the room.

The bottle was already open and there were two tall champagne flutes. She began pouring one of them, but then she glanced at me as if she had only just noticed me sitting there.

"Oh, I left my purse in the bathroom," she said. "Could you quickly fetch it for me?"

I leapt to my feet.

"Sure," I blurted. "I'll just—"

Then I practically sprinted to the bathroom to do it as quickly as I could.

I half stumbled into the bathroom and looked about in wonder. Everything white and blinding, like some kind of temple. There was a round marble bathtub and a glass cubicle with a gold showerhead. Two ornate mirrors in gold frames over two different sinks with gold taps and faucets. I chuckled once in awe and looked for the purse.

It was sitting on the counter. Black leather with a whitegold catch. I picked it up and looked it over. Gucci. My god. I was tempted to look inside, and since I've never been the kind of girl to resist temptation, I did. I unsnapped the catch and the first thing I saw was money. My mouth fell open slowly.

"Oh my god," I breathed.

I reached in and lifted out a whole handful of hundred dollar notes. It must've been thousands. What kind of person walks around with that kind of cash? Damn. If the penthouse didn't confirm it, the contents of the purse did: she was rich. Rich and sexy. Wow.

I went to put the money back, but then I had a dilemma. Would she notice if one of the hundreds was missing? I shouldn't even think about it, but I could use one of them to help defray the cost of my own room downstairs. But in the end I didn't, I just tucked it all back into the purse. I had nowhere to hide it, anyway. My own purse was back on the coffeetable. I supposed I could've smuggled one of the bills in my panties and looked for an opportunity to transfer it into my purse, but too risky. I wouldn't want her to kick me out. In the choice between sex with a beautiful woman and a quick hundred, the decision was quite clear.

I'd been gone longer than I wanted to be, so I didn't bother going through the rest of the purse. I hurried back out into the room and deposited the purse on the coffeetable.

"Sorry I took so long, I couldn't find it," I said, hoping she wasn't suspicious.

She didn't seem to be. She had already poured both glasses and she offered me one with a smile. I reached and took it from her. I could see the gold liquid bubbling and I had a moment of hesitation.

"Oh, um…"

"Yes?" she asked.

I held the glass and looked at her reluctantly. "At school they warn us not to accept drinks from strangers, especially if you don't see them prepare it yourself."

"You think it's drugged?"

There was a playful look in her dark eyes, the way a cat looks at a mouse. I blushed and stuttered.

"No, I…"

"I'll pour you another if that's what you want," she offered.

"But it's probably really expensive, huh?"

"Don't worry about that," she said. "I only want you to be comfortable."

I shifted my weight onto my hip and thought about it for a second. But only a second, because seriously; I was being an idiot. That kind of stuff never happens in real life, and anyway, I highly doubt there was anything this woman could do to me that I'd object to, drugged or not. Hell, I already felt half drugged. So I just giggled and shook my head.

"Nah, it's alright," I said.

"If you say so," she said. "Come, let's sit down."

We sat on the sofa, close together, and I caught another waft of her perfume. I had no idea what it smelled like, aside from sexy. I was staring at her as I took my first ever sip of champagne, and I was surprised at how crappy it tasted.

"Mm," I meeped. "That's disgusting."

She chuckled softly. "It's nothing but the best, I assure you."

"Sorry," I said, blushing. "I guess I'm just not used to it. I've never had champagne before. Only beer. I never liked beer much either. It's pretty bitter. This is kind of bitter too."

I felt like I was babbling and I forced myself to shut up. I took another sip. It really was very bitter, but I liked the bubbles. The woman hadn't even tasted her own champagne yet and now she leaned forward and placed the glass on the coffeetable.

"You're not drinking?" I asked.

"I'm not thirsty," she said, and then she leaned back against the sofa, facing me, and put a hand in my lap.

I froze.

My dress was so short that she was touching my bare skin. My knees were together, but there was enough of a gap for her hand to slide between my thighs. I stared at it in terror, as if it were a spider. But I didn't flinch. The hand was petting me, stroking the inside of my thigh as if my leg were a cat, and my pussy did indeed seem to purr.

"What's wrong?" she asked, watching my face.

My eyes jerked up to look at her. She was still caressing my thigh and I was still somewhat stunned. "Nothing," I said. "I just…"

She smiled and watched me struggle. Her hand continued to pet me. Finally she chuckled. "Drink up, my dear, drink up," she said. "You're very nervous, aren't you? You need to relax. I'm not going to bite, I promise."

I gave a shaky giggle and drank. A big gulp that made me cough a little. Her hand was still there between my thighs, still caressing me so dangerously close to my pussy. Her touch made everything seem so real all of a sudden. Until that moment part of me believed that nothing was going to happen. But now I knew.

Finally she retracted her hand from the warm crevasse of my thighs and bought it up to my breasts instead. Just her fingertips. Brushing the underside of one globe before cupping it in her palm and administering a gentle grope. The material of my dress was paper thin and my whole body quivered under her touch. My breath trembled in and out.

Then the hand came up even further, first to my shoulder and then to my neck. My neck felt very slender under her hand and my skin seemed to be ice cold and blazing hot all at the same time. Her hand was moving to cup the nape of my neck and I was staring at her helplessly. She smiled and drew me toward her red and wicked lips. I watched them get closer and then my eyes fell closed as they connected.

A soft moan came out of me and I dropped the champagne flute. Dimly I heard it break. She didn't seem to mind. She pulled my face even closer and deepened the kiss in one smooth demand of her tongue. I hardly knew what to do, I just opened my mouth. Her tongue came in and it was the best thing I ever felt. I moaned again and tried to respond, but I was so overwhelmed and helpless. It was all I could do to remain conscious.

I don't how know long she made out with me on the couch, but it was a long time. I had only drank about half a glass, but I felt completely drunk. More than drunk. Dizzy. Disorientated. Her hands were roaming my body, mostly my breasts and thighs, and soon my pussy was a soaking mess. I was so horny it hurt.

Finally she broke the kiss and looked at me. I was breathless and already exhausted, flushed, sweating, my legs parted, my dress slightly hiked. I must've looked wild. She smiled at me and she was strangely unruffled. No blush at all on her face and no heavy breathing. Only that slight curve on her smudged and swollen lips.

"Come," she said, taking my hand and rising from the sofa. "I think you're ready."

I rose and it was like my legs were jello. I could hardly walk and it was a weirdly pleasant sensation.

She led me by the hand into the bedroom. She turned on the lamp. I was throbbing everywhere and I watched her turn back the covers on the bed. Then she turned to me. She beckoned me forward with a finger and I went up to her. She turned me by the shoulders and found the zipper on my dress. She unzipped it and began to undress me. Like a child at bedtime.

My dress collapsed at my feet. As if it just didn't have the energy to stay on anymore. I was suddenly naked aside from my panties. Red and wet. I turned to her, blushing with my small breasts exposed. Neither of us had spoken since entering the bed room and neither of us spoke now. She just smiled and directed me by the shoulders to sit on the bed. I did, as obediently as a puppet, and then she knelt down and began removing my shoes. One first, then the other. As if I were some princess. Then she placed her hands on my knees and looked up at me with her dark eyes and dark hair. My heart was thumping. She leaned and placed a kiss on each of my kneecaps and then she gave me a pat and rose to her feet.

I shuffled backwards on the bed and laid on my side to watch her undress. She slipped each heavy velvet shoulder strap from her pale shoulders, smiling, and then she turned around. The zip was in the back and she unzipped it in one smooth motion, revealing a long length of her ivory white back. No bra strap. I watched, mesmerized, as she pushed the dress down, still with her back to me. Her legs were indescribably long and white. Her panties were black. The dress fell to the floor in a heavy heap of black velvet and then she rose up again. Some of her hair had fallen over her shoulder and she flung it back with her hand as she turned to face me. Her breasts were huge and heavy and achingly white and her nipples were the palest pink. My heart seemed to be stuck in my throat. Around her wrist she wore a diamond bracelet and around her neck she wore a diamond necklace. She looked like a goddess.

She smiled at me and paused at the nightstand to remove her rings, her body tall and poised in the dim glow of the lamp, a silhouette of sideboob. Then she lifted her feet to remove her shoes one at a time, letting each of them clatter to the ground, and finally she climbed into the bed.

I watched at her, smiling, waiting, and my body rustled with anticipation as she descended upon me. Her breasts fell flush against mine and her heavy mounds absolutely smothered my littler ones. An indescribable feeling. Warmth and softness. Like my soul ascending. Her mouth came down upon mine and I opened it instantly for her tongue.

She kissed me for a long time, straddling my hips and rubbing her body into mine, driving me even deeper into this dark and all-consuming lust. I responded as best I could and eventually she rolled over so that I was on top of her.

Between her legs. I stopped the kiss to look at her. Her pale face was laying perfectly serene in a pool of pitch black hair. I gulped, trembling and feverish. She didn't speak, but I could see it in her eyes. Her smile. She wanted me to do her. Daring me. The challenge swelled in my chest, making me bold, and I gave her a kiss. It was my first act of assertion and it was intoxicating. I kissed her lips again, as if tasting them. They were so soft and full. I kissed her for a while and then I kissed her face. I pushed my chest against hers and suddenly I really wanted to suck her boobs.

I raised up between her legs, kneeling there. Her whole body was exposed in the dimness of the lamp, everything aside from that area behind the black lace of her panties. But most prominent was her breasts. Even laying on her back couldn't diminish those glorious mounds. They bulged upwards, pale and rolling, like hills of snow. I leaned down immediately and took one of her nipples into my mouth. I moaned on it and sucked. She chuckled softly, her chest vibrating. I had the other breast in my hand and I held it. It felt so huge in my hand. Huge and warm. I squeezed it to make the nipple bulge and then I sucked on that one too, licking it, kissing it, sucking it again. Then I moved back to the other. Her hands were in my hair, holding me at her chest. Her tits were so fucking delicious. They squished in my hands like marshmallows and I licked at them like they were ice creams. Soon they were practically covered in saliva and my tongue was slipping about her nipples like a snake. I heard her moan and it was like music to my ears. I kept going and after a while she bucked her hips.

Just slightly. But I felt it. I was laying between her legs and I felt the front of her pelvis push at me, as if urging me to do something. And I knew exactly what she wanted.

I abandoned her tits instantly and shuffled further down on the bed. I was face to face with the black lace of her panties and the scent that drifted up was heavy and dizzying. I inhaled and swooped to lick it. The lace was rough against my tongue. I licked again. Her body moved, a gentle writhing. I licked around the edges of her panties and got my first taste of her arousal. It drove me crazy. A weird groan came out of me and suddenly I was clawing at her panties, desperately trying to get them off. She chuckled sultrily and lifted her hips to assist me. I finally got rid of them and flung them away. Her legs fell open again and the breath rushed out of me at the sight of her sweet and soaking entrance.

Pink petaled and glistening in the glow of the bedside lamp. That tantalizing scent wafted up to meet me, even more potent than before, and I leaned down and licked it. Her taste coated my tongue and my stomach twisted in hunger. I licked again, harder, and then I was just licking. I was lying face first between her legs and I just kept licking and licking. She moaned and clenched her hands in my hair, holding me there. She was getting wetter and wetter and suddenly there was a gush of fluid that I continued to lick up even as she moaned away the orgasm. She let me lick at her for a while, petting my hair, until finally I raised my face and looked at her.

She smiled and finally her unshakable serenity had been touched with a hint of satisfaction in her dark eyes. She drew me towards her and kissed me. My mouth was slathered in her arousal and she seemed to enjoy it.

Then she laid me down. I was half unconscious by now. My head rolled and I saw myself in the full-length mirror by the bed. The reflection was dim and I could see myself laying there while the woman with black hair removed my red and wet panties. I blinked slowly at myself. My eyes looked weird. They were black and opaque, as if the pupils were completely dilated. As if I was stoned.

But then I moaned and turned to look across my body. The woman was down there, between my legs, and I smiled at what she was doing. Licking me. I moaned again and smiled as her tongue dragged hot lashes of lust across my soft and sensitive folds. She licked hard and firm, almost hard enough to rock me back and forth on the mattress. I moaned again, staring at that mass of black hair between my thighs, that sexy face, that long red tongue. She licked again and I shivered and whimpered. Again. I almost sobbed. Again and again and again. My breath was heaving in and out of my chest and my eyes were closed by now, my whole face scrunched up. I had my legs open so wide it felt like they were splitting and my back was arching off the mattress. My breathing went fast and rhythmic and suddenly my hands clenched in the bedsheets. A cry came out of me as all my dreams came true in one big orgasm.

I almost passed out. I might've, for a moment. When my eyes opened, I was panting and laying on my side. My body was humming and I could feel an ebbing throb between my legs.

Then the covers came up. The woman kissed the side of my face, as if to wake me, and I managed to flutter back to life. She shifted me a bit, so my head was on the pillow, and then she drew the covers over us both.

"Oh god," I wheezed, still not breathing properly. "That was so amazing. I can't believe it. Thank you. That was so…"

"Shh," the woman whispered. "Just relax."

She was drawing me closer under the covers and I snuggled up to her blissfully. Her naked body was cool and smooth and I seemed to fit against it perfectly. I didn't even know her name, but the intimacy was indescribable.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so tired. I don't know why I'm so tired. Mmm. That feels so good."

"This?"

She was stroking my side with her hand. I had an arm and leg thrown over her, and her hand was there at my waist, patting me, caressing me, soothing me.

"Yes," I whispered, breathlessly. "Mmm. I love it."

She chuckled in a low vibration of her chest. "Just relax," she said. "You'll be asleep in a minute."

"I can't sleep. I have to go home."

"Shh. Just lay here with me for a while."

"Okay," I said, giving up instantly. "Okay. Mmm. It feels so good." I was rubbing my thigh against her and cuddling even closer. "Mmm. This is so amazing. Who are you? I don't even know you're name. Will I ever see you again?"

I had actually opened my eyes and raised up slightly to ask those questions. But she only smiled and guided my head back down to her chest. She kissed my hair and whispered:

"Soon, my dear, soon. It will be difficult to part with you now that I have finally found you, but we must bare it as best we can until we are reunited once again. Now go to sleep. If you wish to see me again sooner rather than later, simply close your eyes and I'll be waiting there in the dark. As I always have."

She kissed me again and a faint murmur came out of me.

I was already falling asleep.

—

I woke up in the morning with a pain in my head that would split a coconut.

I groaned and opened my eyes. Brightness. Sun. I moved slightly in the bed, laying on my stomach, and then suddenly I remembered where I was. I flipped over and sat up. A throb of pain almost knocked me back down again. I put a hand in my hair and looked around, but she wasn't there. The bed was empty and there was no sign of her.

I was crushed, but I didn't give up all hope. I scrambled out of the bed and wrapped the sheet around my body. My legs were weak and the strain of standing caused me to start sweating. My tongue was dry and swollen and it was hard to swallow. I stood for a second with eyes squeezed closed until the pain and dizziness went a away. Jeez. How could I possibly be so hung over from one little glass of champagne?

Finally I took a breath and went out into the room, hitching the sheet up around my breasts. The room was empty and filled with sunlight. I wandered in, looking about. I wanted to call for her, but I didn't know her name, and I probably would've been too self-conscious anyway. The broken champagne flute was sitting in the carpet with its stem snapped. I looked at it and it made me smile, remembering what happened. I might've thought it was all a dream if it wasn't for the fact that I was waking up in a penthouse suite with the distinct impression between my legs that I had come very hard last night.

I continued on into the bathroom, but she wasn't there either. She really was gone.

I sighed and let my shoulders slump, still holding up the sheet. I was very disappointed, but I guess I should've known. It wasn't like I had asked her out on a date or anything, and what we did was technically pretty wrong. There had never been any chance it would segway into any kind of relationship. I had been used and abused and discarded like trash, but in all honesty, I couldn't really complain.

I turned on one of the taps at the sink and drank some water out of my hand. My mouth was dry as dust and I gulped at the water until I was out of breath. I turned off the tap and stood up, dabbing at my mouth with the corner of the sheet. I looked at myself in the mirror and I had to smile. My hair was sticking up weirdly and I used my wet hand to push it down a little. I was still smiling, but then I noticed something on my neck. I turned my face slightly and leaned a little closer to the mirror. Two little marks. Kind of like bug bites. I touched them but they didn't hurt. I looked at them for a little bit and then I just shrugged and forgot about all them.

—


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you very much for reviews, here's the second chapter, hope you like it. ;)**

—

Chapter 2:

—

She came me to in my dreams the very next night and then the night after that. I wouldn't have forgotten about her, anyway. She was all I could think about.

I'm not usually the kind of girl who's prone to romantic angst, but at some point you have to just go ahead and admit that a random encounter with a beautiful woman has turned you into a snivelling mess of wistfulness. I honestly found it difficult to believe I was never going to see her again. Could the fates truly be so cruel as to fulfil my every fantasy only to wrench me back into reality the very next morning like any other dream? It wasn't fair. What was the point of a dream coming true if the morning shattered it regardless?

It depressed me. It really did. Which was probably very selfish. After all, I had also cheated on my girlfriend, so I probably should've been wracked with guilt too. Jess had called me, as she said she would, and we patched things up very smoothly, with her promising to try harder next time because she really did love me. It should've tugged at my heart strings a little more than it did, but to be honest, I didn't think I really believed her anymore. I didn't tell her I slept with another woman behind her back, because in all honesty, I kind of blamed her. Perhaps it was somewhat chauvinistic to say she had driven me to cheating with her frigid refusal to put out with her body instead of her heart, but there it was. I had always wondered how cheating bitches could live with themselves, but now I knew. It was surprisingly easy, as long as you had a justification or two.

And let's be honest: this wasn't any ordinary woman. This woman had _huuuge_ tits. And she came from my dreams. That had to count for something.

So, that was it. I kept it secret and then me and Jess were back to being me and Jess. Only time would tell for how long. I gave us a few months, maybe. She just wasn't gay. Not even bi. But oh well. I hoped I could at least get her pants off once before she came to her senses.

Till then, at least I had my dreams.

And my drawings. I'd always been good at drawing, a talent that bloomed from when I used to doodle designs of dresses. Even back then my models all featured black hair and big chests. There were times when I experimented with different hair and body types—mostly mine—but I'd always go back to that woman I dreamt about as my perfect ideal.

My room at home was practically an artist's studio. I had a laptop with some design software, but I liked to draw. My desk was in the corner and the walls were covered in old designs I'd pinned to the plaster where I could see them. Most of them, naturally, featured the woman with black hair in various evening gowns. Dresses had always been my favourite articles of clothing. I loved to draw her in them, and sometimes—just for fun—I liked to draw her without them.

Which is what I was doing now. It was the second night after prom and the ache was strong. There was an extendable lamp clipped to the edge of the desk, and I was hunched over with my tongue poking out the corner of my mouth, my heart slightly racing as I feverishly recalled her body, not from dreams this time but from actual memory, clad in nothing but her tiny black lace panties. I had a hidden section in my binder for my modest collection of naughty pictures, and this was going to be one of the best.

I had my iPod on with some melancholy love song feeding my longing passion, and I was so engrossed in getting the pattern of her panties just right that I didn't hear my sister enter the room until she spoke from over my shoulder.

"Eww, gross!"

I yelped and jumped and the pencil flew out of my hand and across the room. I jerked the earbuds out of my ears and flipped over the picture I'd been working on even though she'd clearly already seen it.

"Cynthia!" I squealed, my face burning. "Don't you knock!?"

My reaction made her jump too. She was two years younger than me and she could really be a troll sometimes. I wish she was ugly, but with her blonde pigtails and button nose, she might even be cuter than I am.

"Jeez, relax," she said. "It's not like I never caught you with porn before."

I blushed even hotter. She was referring to the time when she'd walked in on me while I was discovering my sexuality with the aid of a google image search. But now she was insulting my artistic integrity, and I would not stand for that.

"It's not porn," I said. "They're designs for dresses."

She gave me a skeptical look and then she flipped the drawing back over. I had been happy with it before, but now that it was exposed to the unkeen eyes of my sister, I realized that perhaps I had over-exaggerated the boob-size.

"That's a design for tits, not a dress," she said.

I flipped it back over and put my heavy binder on top of it sullenly. "I have to draw the body naked and then add the clothes on," I muttered. "That's how _all_ designers do it."

"I don't know what you're so defensive about," she said. "It's not like I didn't know you're completely lezbo."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to regain my composure. I wondered if mom would be mad if I strangled her, but such actions had been forbidden a long time ago. So instead I opened my eyes and looked at her with thin patience.

"What do you want, Cynthia?" I asked.

"Nothing. Just wondering what you're doing."

"Well, I'm busy so…"

"Fine, fine," she said, but she didn't leave. She was nosing about my desk for more things to tease me about. She picked up a sheaf of drawings and flipped through them with a grimace. "How come you always draw the same person?"

"I don't know. Why not?"

"Because no one has tits like that."

"Well, _you_ never will, that's for sure."

She shot me a glare. She was only fifteen, but flat even for that. She lowered her frown back to the drawings and came to one that displayed a small cocktail dress roughly colored in a red pencil.

"Is this the one you wore to prom?" she asked, turning it around to show me.

I nodded. It was one of my first sketches of it. "Yeah."

She looked at it again and snorted. But she was smiling and she really did seem to admire it. Maybe because it was drawn on a slimmer body type, similar to hers and mine. On prom night she had actually been really jealous when she saw me in it.

"I still can't believe mom let you wear it," she said. "You really did look like a slut."

It had the tone of a compliment, so I smiled. "Actually, she didn't let me. I just wore it anyway. She also didn't want me to go with a girl, but I didn't listen to that either."

"She's gonna be disappointed that Jasper's graduating. She always hoped you and him would hook up."

I rolled my eyes. Mom was an old fashioned woman who believed a woman's true purpose was to cook, do laundry, bare children, that kind of thing. Of course, that never stopped her from getting divorced twice and starting her own small business as a single mother. She was a hypocrite in many ways, but not really a bad one. She was just naïve.

"She was really happy when you said you were gonna go with him," Jessica went on. "She was crushed when you changed your mind."

"I was never gonna go _with_ Jasper, we were just friends."

"Are you gonna miss him, though? After he graduates?"

"Of course, he's my best friend."

Cynthia nodded and then she put the stack of drawings down before leaning back against the desk hesitantly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How come you never at least _tried_ dating him? I mean, what if mom's right? What if you're not even gay? Shouldn't you at least find out for sure?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. I wasn't sure why my orientation should be anyone's business other than my own, but the question had been genuinely curious and I figured I could explain it. "It doesn't work like that, Cindy," I said. "Did you have to date girls to figure out you weren't gay?"

"No."

"Exactly."

"But this is different," she protested, as if she actually wanted to understand. "Girls are _supposed_ to be with boys."

I sighed and considered elaborating, but in the end, I probably didn't understand it either. I liked tits. That's all I knew. So instead I waved the subject away with a toss of my hand. "Well, I guess I'm just a freak then."

"I didn't say that," she said, half-apologizing.

"I know. _I_ said it."

Then I giggled. Because, hee hee I'm a freak. She didn't seem to get it, though. She gave me a weird look, her blonde pigtails lending her a little extra cluelessness. I rolled my eyes again, but at least freakiness was something I could explain easier.

"Hey, you wanna see something hot?" I asked, reaching for my phone.

She backed up warily, as if I might flash her. "What?"

I stood up, glancing at the door in case mom might materialize, and then I sidled up beside her and showed her the picture I'd taken at prom of Jess and I making out in the hotel bathroom. Cindy's eyes went wide and she almost shrieked.

"_Ewwwww_!"

"Shh," I hissed, grinning and glancing at the door again.

"That's disgusting."

"Yeah right, you know it's hot."

"No, I don't."

"Then why are you blushing, Cindy?"

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

I giggled and turned away with the picture. She really was blushing, but probably more from embarrassment than anything else. Still, it was fun to tease her. To be honest, I'd actually really love it if Cynthia turned out to be gay like me—so we could chat about girls and stuff—but alas, there could only be one black sheep in the family and my dear baby sister was burdened by being the Good Sister.

"I can't believe you actually kissed her," she said, looking like she might actually be sick.

"I did more than kiss her."

"What do you mean?"

Actually, what _did_ I mean? After all, nothing really happened with Jess beyond the kiss, did it? But to be honest, I wasn't even thinking about Jess. I was thinking about the woman with black hair. She had been my real prom date.

Cynthia was looking at me with a hesitant curiosity in her big round eyes, and I decided to tell her. I couldn't tell her the full truth about the woman, but I could pretend it was Jess. A small lie for a good cause: bragging to my little sister that I'd officially had sex.

"Promise you won't tell mom?" I asked.

She nodded. "Okay."

I grinned and went to close the door. Cynthia had left it open when she came in. I pushed it closed, most of the way, and gestured for Cynthia to sit on the bed with me. I didn't want her to faint and bump her head.

She sat down with a troubled face, as if I might have some bad news for her. I grinned and said:

"We had _sex_."

I put a special emphasis on the word sex. Cynthia's face drained. Her expression literally washed away until there was nothing but shock. Good thing she was sitting down.

"No way," she said.

"Mmhm," I said, giggling. "That's why I never came home. I told mom I fell asleep after a bunch of us were partying, but it was just me and, uh…Jess."

I stumbled slightly, but recovered seamlessly. Too bad I had to lie about the Jess part. Not only did it give me a twinge of guilt, but it was also nowhere as near epically awesome as what really happened.

Cynthia didn't speak for a minute. Suddenly she looked very young with her pigtails and her face full of lost innocence. She was now living in a world where girls had sex with other girls. The poor thing must've been so disillusioned.

And maybe a bit excited too. A small blush was struggling under the green colour of her face and her first question came out in a hushed whisper.

"What was it like?" she asked.

I grinned breezily. "Awesome."

"Seriously?"

"Oh yeah."

"Wow," she breathed, her eyes darting as she tried to come to terms with it in her mind. Then her blonde brow puckered and she looked at me. "But…how?"

"What do you mean?"

"How did you do it? I mean, I know how it works with a guy, but how are you supposed to do it with a girl?"

"How do you think?"

"I don't know."

I smothered a giggle under my hand, my eyes sparkling. Was she actually serious? She couldn't figure out how two girls were supposed to do it? I knew she wasn't the brightest light on the Christmas Tree, but this seemed silly even for her.

So instead of explaining it to her, I gave her a small demonstration.

"Like this," I said, and then I made a crescent shape with two of my fingers and flicked my tongue at it like a lizard.

At first she still didn't seem to get it. Then it dawned on her. The implication of what I was licking at. Her face went white and then red and then she shuddered in revulsion and sprang off the bed.

"Okay," she said, holding up her hands as if for mercy. "That's it. I don't need to know any more. I'm getting out of here before I throw up. You really are a freak."

"I know," I giggled, and then quickly changed my tune. "But listen, you can't tell mom. She'd kill me if she knew."

"I know."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, yeah, I promise," she said, nodding, and then she opened the door and looked back at me with her poor pale face pinched in disgust. But she couldn't seem to bear looking at me and she quickly twisted away. "Ugh," she groaned, and then she hurried out and let the door swing closed behind her.

I giggled and lay back on the bed, stretching out as I fondly recalled that fateful prom night.

But after a while my smile slipped away as I began to remember what had been bothering me ever since I woke up the very next morning. That I was never going to see that woman with black hair ever again. I sighed and went back to my desk to finish up the drawing.

The next day was Wednesday, my least favourite day of the week. But at least it was the last week of school and classes would be pretty much a breeze.

It had been an embarrassing week so far. Before prom I had made the mistake of bragging that Jess and I were going to go all the way. Now rumours were beginning to circulate that we, in fact, only went about halfway. Several boys on the team had some rather unflattering things to say about my sexual prowess, suggesting perhaps that a girl was no substitute for a man after all, and I'm sure many of the girls were also meanly pleased that I'd failed to fully convert my girlfriend. Straight people are so vicious. I wish I could've explained to my friends at least that it wasn't my fault Jess is such a frigid bitch, but Jess and I were firmly back together, and I still might have a chance of dethawing her.

That morning, at our lockers, she tried to pay me back for the hotel room. I'd already told her multiple times not to worry about it, and I thought she had actually forgotten about it, the cheap bitch. But I guess she'd only needed a few days to scrape together the cash.

"Here," she said, the bills folded in her hand. "I wanted to give this to you."

I saw what she was doing and figured I should at least refuse a few times first. "Jess, you don't have to."

She smiled at me and gestured with the cash, like trying to feed to a goat with a handful of grain. She clearly saw completely through my reluctance. "Just take it, Alice," she said. "I know how special prom was supposed to be to you."

I still hesitated. A real gentleman would've refused, but I'm a girl—and a shallow one at that—and it only took a few seconds to convince myself that refusing might injure Jess's pride. So with a great show of reluctance, I suggested a compromise.

"I'll take half," I said. "I mean, I can't let you pay for the full thing."

She rolled her eyes, smiling, and separated half of the bills. "Fine."

I tucked them into the pocket of my jeans, pleased to have arrived at a solution that involved minimal guilt and still payed out. Jess nodded and I wasn't sure what to say. I was watching her face, scrutinizing her expression, and I didn't really know what to make of it. There seemed to be some new distance between us. I felt a glimmer of anxiety and offered her a tentative smile.

"So we're still good?" I asked. "I mean, after what happened, I'd completely understand if you needed time apart."

But she shook her head and actually touched my hand. In a crowded corridor. Very rare of her to initiate contact, but that's what she was doing; holding my hand and smiling at me. "I don't need time apart," she said, "I just need time. I still love you, Alice. If I didn't, I never would've even…"

A small blush came over her face and I smiled. It was very encouraging, so I decided to go for a kiss. We both had our books propped against our hips, and with our hands clasped I leaned across the distance between us and pressed my lips to hers, there in the hallway with the sunlight spilling through the window.

The kiss only lasted a couple seconds before a wolf whistle came from behind us. I broke the kiss and grinned over my shoulder. A group of jocks back there, two of them I knew from the team. They called out for us to keep going and don't stop there, and I just scoffed.

"Alright, knock it off," I said, and they laughed and kept walking.

I turned back to Jessica and saw that a small nerd named Mike had sidled up beside us. Blonde hair, spiky, trying to be cool. He had a lot of classes with Jessica and for some odd reason Jessica had always kind of liked him.

"Hey, Mike," she said, her smile giving me that a familiar burn of jealousy.

"Hey," he said, and then smiled at me. "Hey, Alice."

I smiled to say hi, but I wouldn't speak to him. It was beneath my dignity. I had never liked the creepy little bastard, not even before Jess and I hooked up.

The bell rang throughout the corridor, and I gave Jess another kiss on the lips, just a quick one this time, just to reinforce my territory. Mike looked away respectfully—or because he was a loser who was afraid of girls—and Jess gave me an eye roll before turning back to Mike.

"Come on, Mike," she said. "We're gonna be late."

I watched them go for a second. They instantly fell into conversation and I wondered if I should worry. Jess was convinced she still loved me, but after prom, she had to be wondering if she was even capable of being with a girl. I know I was skeptical. And from some angles it seemed like she still did kind of like him. If she did wind up leaving me for him, it would be the ultimate humiliation. I'd never be able to show my face at school again.

Bah, no point worrying. Jess was straight, but she wasn't _that_ straight.

Me and Jess didn't have many classes together, but we had a few, and we always sat together. Hopefully next semester we'd have a few more. There were also rumors of a new teacher joining the faculty, a female one. Apparently her name was Swan or something. No one knew what subjects she was gonna teach, they only hoped she would be hot. I hoped so too. Maybe a hearty crush on a sexy teacher would be just the thing I needed to get over that woman from the hotel.

I had never had any classes with Jasper, since he was a grade higher than me, but we saw each other all the time during lunch and breaks and at practices and football games. But soon he was going to graduate and I was going to lose a close friend. I actually seemed sadder about it than he did, which didn't seem fair. After all, he was the one who had a secret crush on me. Shouldn't he be just a little more depressed that his unrequited love would soon be sundered as he moved on to college and bid goodbye forever to the girl of his dreams?

I don't know. I suppose guys are just better at hiding their feelings. At least that's what many pop songs on the subject would suggest.

Either way, he was as cheerful as he ever was in the days leading up to graduation and he brushed off all my attempts to dramatically tell him how much I'll miss him. At his graduation ceremony he winked at me from the stage after receiving his diploma and I gave him an excited spattering of applause and a couple thumbs up.

Some of the seniors were having a party afterward and I was one of the few juniors who went. I would've liked to bring Jess but it would've been weird sense the only reason I was going was because of Jasper. The party was at Jasper's house, with his dad out of town, and I was the first one who arrived, mostly so I could get changed in his room. I had bought along a leather miniskirt and a sparkly pink halter, and there was no way mom would've let me out of the house wearing them.

Soon other people began to arrive. The music was cranked up and the beer began flowing. I didn't have many friends who were seniors other than the guys on the team and the girls on the cheersquad, so I mostly hovered around Jasper. We got drunk and danced with cups of beer in our hands and while we were dancing I brushed up against some brunette beside us. I didn't know her, but she seem to know me, and immediately she began fondling my waist in a way that could only be bi-curious. She was obviously drunk. Jasper urged me on and soon I was making out with her while a bunch of people hooted and watched. She was really getting into it, and I was pretty sure I could've nailed her in the bedroom in the back, but then her boyfriend showed up and yanked her away.

I giggled and realized I had just semi-cheated on Jess again. But I was pretty drunk, so I decided to give myself a break.

I was at the party all night and I was still there when it was over, half asleep and curled up on the couch. The music was off, paper cups were everywhere. I'd already texted mom that I'd be staying at Jess's place. She texted back that this was unacceptable, of course, but I could always claim that my phone was off and I never saw her predictable and overbearing disapproval.

Jasper offered me his bed, and after making sure he wouldn't be in it, I agreed. I wasn't even that drunk, but he hefted me up from the couch and slung my arm around his shoulders. He was so tall I could barely reach. I giggled and slewed against him and eventually he dragged me into his bedroom. I caught a whiff of his cologne or bodyspray and I remembered that I was going to miss him when he was gone.

His room was a typical boys room. One whole wall was covered in overlapping posters of bands with a large poster of a sexy blonde swimsuit model taped on top of them. He deposited me onto the bed with a groan of effort, me giggling, and something on the nightstand caught my tipsy eye.

It was a framed photograph. I took it and held it in my lap for a closer look. The picture had been taken after the championship game last year, with me in my cheer uniform and him wearing his enormous football armor. He had taken off his helmet and his blonde hair hung all dark and sweaty. He had his arm around me and we were both smiling brightly from the big victory. It was a cute picture, and looking at it gave me a surge of sadness, knowing that there won't ever be another championship game with my best friend throwing the passes and me waving my pompoms. I sighed heavily.

"It's really gonna suck when you go off to college," I said. "I'm really gonna miss you."

I must've sounded on the verge of tears, because he laughed and took the picture from me. "Jeez, get a grip," he said. "It's not like I'm going out of state. It's not even an hour drive to the university, I'll see you all the time."

He had a point there, but still. I'd never see him again at school. He was putting the picture back on the nightstand and I thought it was really sweet how he kept it by his bedside. Sometimes I really wished he was a girl. He had long hair and a really strong feminine side, but no tits. I heaved another sigh and slipped off my shoes.

"It still really sucks, though," I said.

"Don't worry, we'll still be friends."

"You think so?"

"Sure. What's the last letter in BFF mean?"

"Forever."

"Exactly," he said, and then he opened his arms. "Now give me a hug goodnight."

Smiling, I hopped off the bed in my miniskirt and gave him a big hug. He was so much taller than me that I could rest my face against his chest. He held me and patted my back a bit. I sighed, getting another whiff of his scent. Ah, Jazz.

"Seriously, though, I'm gonna miss you when I go," he said, giving me a squeeze.

I smiled and loosened the hug to look at him. "I'm gonna miss you too."

Then we just looked at each other. My feelings were purely platonic, but I was also half-drunk and slutted up in makeup and a sparkly halter, so perhaps he was getting the wrong idea. Either way, I felt my first glimmer of panic when his eyes shifted to my lips. Just a brief flicker. They were painted candypink, and I'm sure they looked very kissable, but still. Then his hand came up and touched my cheek. A brush of his knuckles. A warning alarm began blaring in my chest and I snapped out of the daze just in time to flinch away from his mouth as it was coming at me.

"Whoa, whoa, what the—?!"

I had sprang into an informal karate stance, prepared to defend my virtue at any cost. He burst out laughing and backed away with his hands up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said. "I thought we were having a moment."

"Not that kind of moment, you asshole."

Nothing had actually touched my lips, thank god, but I wiped them with my hands anyway, only barely resisting the urge to spit on his carpet. He chuckled and tried to apologize again.

"Look, my bad, okay? I'm sorry."

I glared at him, but I guess I couldn't be too mad. Attempting to take advantage of an intoxicated teenage girl was nothing I wouldn't do myself. I decided to let my guard down a little, but then he went on, in a much more serious tone.

"Seriously, though," he said. "I know we joke around a lot, but…"

I glared at him hesitantly. "What?"

He chuckled once and even blushed a little. He was wearing a black silk shirt and his blonde hair was hanging about his face. He pushed it back with his hand and smiled. "Come on," he said. "You know what I'm talking about. I like you. For real."

"I know you do," I snapped, "I just don't care."

"Come on, there's no need to get all alpha dyke on me. I'm not trying to make a move on you—"

"You just did!"

"Okay, maybe I did. But I apologized. Look, come here. Sit down, sit down."

He took my arm and tentatively I allowed him to sit me on the edge of the bed. He sat beside me and I shuffled away slightly, tugging my skirt down for maximum coverage—which wasn't much. My legs felt very bare. God, this was weird. I had always known how he felt about me, but I thought we respected each other enough to kind of like just not mention it ever in a serious conversation. Now here I was, half drunk and half-asleep and sitting on his bed, watching as he gathered his courage to pour out his heart.

"Thing is," he said. "I love you."

My stomach dropped. "Ugh."

He giggled at my reaction, an actual giggle. "No, really," he insisted. "You're cute, and funny, and you're my best friend, and…I just wanted you to know, that's all. I guess I thought…"

"Thought what?" I interrupted heatedly. "That this is some stupid TV show where the lesbian goes straight for the first cute guy to fall in love with her?"

Instantly I realized my mistake. He smirked.

"Cute?"

My blood boiled. I had walked right into it, but that only made me even more furious. I gritted my teeth and glared at him. He could tell I was about to rip his 'cute' little face off and he quickly jumped off the bed and held up his hands to stall the meltdown.

"Okay, okay," he said. "Just forget it. I must've misread the signals."

"Signals?!" I shrieked, exploding off the bed in my miniskirt and sparkly top which still probably smelled like him from how close we'd been dancing all night. "What signals, I never—"

He burst out laughing again and caught one of my hands as it flew through the room like a wasp. He took the other one as well and composed them gently to calm me down. "Okay, I'm sorry," he said, actually sounding earnest this time. "I'm sorry. Just don't be upset, alright? Still friends?"

I jerked my hands back, still glaring at him. But then he smiled and offered a pinkie.

"BFF?"

And that's all it took. My heart melted. I wanted to stay angry with him for a bit, but between pinkie promises and friendship acronyms, I was powerless to resist. It really was a shame he was a guy, because he really would've made an awesome chick, and then we could've actually dated.

I sighed and frowned at his pinkie. He looked at me hopefully. I still couldn't believe he had actually tried to make a pass at me, but at least he wasn't making me feel guilty for treating him like a chump and stomping all over his heart. What else could I do? I linked my pinkie with his and gave him a grudging smile.

"BFF," I said.

He smiled and gave me another hug. I was on guard against any funny business, but he seemed to have given up.

For the moment.

He left soon after, trudging off to his bed for the night on the couch. I got one of his huge t-shirts out of a drawer and slipped it on after stripping to my underwear. His shirt smelled faintly of Jasper and the bed smelled like Jasper too after I crawled in with the light off. I had a feeling it was going to be an awkward smell from now on. I just hoped he never tried anything like that again. I was too proud of my orientation to ever date a guy, even if I did like him. A few years ago I might've been opened minded and carefree enough. But not anymore. Not after all these years of mom telling me it's just a phase, just confused, haven't met the right boy yet. Fuck that. I'll decide who I'm attracted to, thank you very much.

I sighed and rolled over, struggling to sleep even despite how tired and drunk I was. My thoughts drifted and after a while they drifted to the woman with black hair, as they always did. Every night. I couldn't really think properly, but it was enough just to picture her. She came to me very clearly, clothed in her black dress with her black hair cascading, and I smiled in the dark as I slowly slipped away into sleep where I hoped she would be waiting for me.

School was over and in the days to come I found myself sort of listless. My hours at the store were only part time and most of my time was spent chilling at home, texting with Jess or Jasper, telling Cynthia to leave me alone.

And drawing. I'd sketch for hours in the evenings, just for fun, researching dresses on the internet and copying them onto my favourite model, adding accessories, shoes, a bit of jewellery maybe. Using the same pencil every time to shade in her hair. Abyss Black. It was worn to a stub by now.

I couldn't get her out of my mind and as the days rolled on I almost began to believe that night at the hotel was itself just another dream. I wish I had some proof, like a picture, a lock of her hair, a swiped pair of her panties. Anything. Just something more than a memory.

I thought about her all day. At work I would daydream that she might walk into the store, a fateful coincidence. I tried to imagine what I would say to her, what she was would say back. I pictured her delighted to see me and more than eager to accept my number, but in reality I had to wonder if she would even remember me. I guess it would be a long shot. It was only one night, and it would've been far more important to me than to her. After all, I doubt I was the girl of her dreams the same way she was the woman of mine. For all I knew it could've just been a freak experiment on her side. Still. It was fun to think about.

And so I kept dreaming. Night or day, asleep or awake. I had expected I might forget about her by now, but it wasn't happening. I began to regret leaving so early that morning. Maybe she would've came back to the suite if I had stuck around longer. Maybe she had only popped out to buy me some flowers before returning and pledging her everlasting love to me. Okay, maybe that wasn't likely. But it was possible that she might've come back. I hadn't known for sure that she'd checked out. Then again, disappearing like she did was a pretty clear message, and even if she had returned to find me lingering there, she probably would've just kicked me out. Politely, of course, but I was insane if I actually believed some kind of relationship between us was possible.

Yet at the same time, I felt so _strongly_. I felt that anything might've been possible. I still felt it. Whatever happened between us, it did not feel finished. It felt like I was missing something, that I had made some mistake. I just wish I could go back there, and…

Wait.

Go back there?

To the hotel?

The thought occurred to me in bed one night with a sudden jolt of excitement. I couldn't believe I never thought of it before. It was so simple: what if she was still there? A long shot, but it was possible. It had been almost three weeks since prom, but maybe she was on vacation. Maybe she was staying for the spring. Maybe—

Maybe I was being an idiot. Nobody stays at a hotel for three weeks and even if she did, how would that help me? I didn't even know her name, or even her room number. What was I supposed to do? Call the hotel and ask if they had a sexy bitch with black hair staying on the top floor and if so could they please let me talk to her? Yeah. Right. And that's without mentioning that I seemed to be in love with her due a one night stand and a series of sex dreams, which would probably get me locked up for stalking.

But in the end, I guess none of that really mattered. The next day was Saturday. I kept trying to convince myself that I was being stupid and I should forget about it, but I couldn't. The idea was swirling about in my stomach like an anxious eel. I knew the facts. I knew it was impossible she would still be there. But I had to find out.

So I went after work. To the hotel. I paused in the lobby, beneath the huge crystal chandelier, while bellhops went by with carts of bags and suitcases, while guests crossed back and forth from the elevators. There was already a weird feeling in my chest just being here. I looked toward the bar, but it was closed till evening.

I took a deep breath and approached the front desk. There was only one receptionist free. I think it was the same person who checked us in on prom night. She looked up when she saw me and smiled thinly. An older woman with dark brown hair in a severe bun.

"Good afternoon, how can I help you?"

I smiled awkwardly, as if to say hello, and rested my arms on the marble countertop. She looked sort of conservative and not at all the type of person who might be sympathetic to the romantic follies of a teenage girl—much less a gay one—but I had to take my chances. "Yeah, um, I was wondering if you have someone staying here."

"Name?"

"Actually, I don't know her name."

She raised her eyebrows. I blushed and looked away stupidly, feeling like a moron. She had her fingers poised over the keyboard and now she let them rest.

"I see," she said.

I chuckled and shrugged feebly. "I only met her once," I explained. "A couple weeks ago. In the bar. And, um…well, we really hit it off, but she never mentioned her name. So…"

"I'm not sure what you're getting at."

"Well, I'd just really love to see her again," I admitted. Then I blushed some more. "I can't seem to forget about her."

She raised her eyebrows again—she had a really dry way of doing that. She also stiffened slightly. My little declaration made it pretty clear she was dealing with some kind of lesbian stalker here this afternoon.

"I see," she said.

I chuckled and gave her my best please-help-me smile. "So do you think you could help me out?"

"I'm not sure how."

"Well, I was thinking I could describe her to you," I suggested. "She's not someone you'd ever forget. She was, uh—gorgeous."

Some more giggles bubbled out of me. My face must've been bright pink. She gave me a stern look and I quickly silenced, biting my lip to keep from grinning.

"Well," I began, "she had, um, long black hair? Really long and really wavy, absolutely beautiful. And her skin was very pale. She looked a lot like a vampire."

"A vampire?" questioned the receptionist dryly.

"Yeah, have you ever seen vampire chicks in movies?"

"Not that I recall."

"Well, it doesn't matter. Point is, she had black hair and pale skin. She was very striking. Stunning, even. You'd look at her, and you'd be like: omigawd! You know?"

She was looking at me. She didn't seem to know. I cleared my throat and went on.

"So, um…do you remember seeing anyone like that?"

She shook her head in bemusement. "No, I'm a afraid I don't," she said. "And even if I did, I'm not at liberty to give out information about our guests. Not even their names."

"Oh," I said, sagging. I hadn't thought of that.

"In any case," the receptionist went on, "if you met her weeks ago, I doubt she's still here. Most of our guests only stay a handful of days. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I said, shrugging it away. "I knew that, I just had to check."

I heaved a sigh and tapped the countertop. I had known it was pointless to come here, but I was still bitterly disappointed. But I flashed the receptionist one last smile to say thanks—she really had been helpful and patient—before turning to go.

"One moment," she said.

I had only taken one step away and now I stepped back curiously. She seemed to be genuinely intrigued about my situation and she asked her next question against her better judgement perhaps.

"May I ask what your relationship is to this woman?"

A single chuckle came out of me, my face spreading into a wistful smile. "I don't know," I said. "It kind of feels like love at first sight. I really can't get her out of my mind. I've even been dreaming about her. Then again, I think I was dreaming about her before I even met her."

I blushed as I admitted all that. Hard to believe I hadn't told anyone. Not Jazz, not Jess. Saying it out loud bought it all back to me and reminded me what I was losing. Or what I'd never have.

The woman behind the counter nodded at my story, a small smile about her lips. She looked to her left, at where her supervisor was engaged with a guest, and turned back to me.

"Do you happen to remember her room number?"

A flicker of hope sparked in my chest, although I couldn't say why. But I was very attentive when I answered. "No," I said. "But it was on the top floor. One of the presidential suites."

"And how long ago did you see her?"

"It was prom night. The twenty fourth."

"Hold on a minute."

She was typing at her keyboard. I waited. My heart seemed to have stopped. All I could hear was the tapping of the keys. I didn't know what I expected. It was like I expected her to find some hidden love letter encrypted into the computer complete with instructions on how to find my dark haired soulmate if only my heart be true.

The receptionist bought up some information on the screen and glanced it over. "Of the four Presidential Suites, only one of them was registered under a woman's name on the night of the twenty fourth," she said. "By a Ms Isabella Swan. But I'm afraid she checked out the very next morning. Perhaps that was the woman you had met?"

_Swan_, I repeated to myself.

It sounded familiar, but only vaguely. As if I'd heard it somewhere before. But that didn't matter—was it her? Was the name of my dream woman Isabella Swan?

"Maybe," I murmured.

"Well, that's really all I can tell you," she said, shrugging slightly as if to let me know she shouldn't have even told me that much. "Sorry I couldn't be more helpful."

"No, that's great. Thank you very much. I just wish…"

I trailed off, not even knowing what I wished. The receptionist watched me kindly and smiled. She probably thought I was just some silly girl with a silly crush. Which is exactly what I was, I guess.

"It sounds like you're really taken with her," she said. "I hope you bump into her again someday."

She didn't sound like she believed it would ever happen, and I didn't believe it would either. But I smiled and gave her a nod.

"Me too," I said.

Then I turned and continued on toward the revolving glass doors and out into the sunlight on the sidewalk.

After that I was determined to completely forget about her, but of course that didn't last long. After all, I knew her name now, which certainly made my fantasies more vivid. Isabella. What a sexy name. It had an old world ring to it, like a countess or duchess—the very syllables themselves seem to smack of dominance and refinement, just like the woman herself.

It had to be her name, and it only took a few days for me to become obsessed with it. I began scrawling it sexily on my drawings like a signature. Isabella. The name would repeat in my mind all day. Not even a thought, more like a whisper. As if it were her actual voice sighing so softly inside my head.

_Isabella._

Yet at the same time I could feel myself becoming resigned. I guess there had never really been any chance I would see her again, but now I began to believe it. And accept it. There was nothing more I could do. It had been a wonderful, amazing, once in a lifetime experience. And that was all. I suspected that she would always be the love of my life, but she would also be nothing more than a name and a memory. And a dream.

There were only a couple more weeks till we had to go back to school, and I tried to shift my focus to Jess. After all, dreams were just dreams. Jess was the reality. So I paid more attention to her texts and tried to spend more time with her. But she seemed to have cooled off a little now that we weren't seeing each other at school every day. We went to see a movie together as a little afternoon date and she hardly even let me hold her hand, much less make out with her in the dark and cop a feel.

It felt like we were drifting back to plain old friendship. It was depressing. I mean, why? Is it me? Is it my fault? Are my perky breasts and round ass really so hideous? Is my relentless drive to eat her pussy really such a turn off?

I just didn't get it. Not to be egotistical, but I really was superior to a boy in virtually every aspect. Looks, personality, emotional depth. Well, I did cheat on her a couple times, but she didn't know about that, so it shouldn't really factor against me. All in all, I think I had most guys beat in the important categories. I wouldn't win many arm wrestling contests, but I would certainly walk all over any male competition in a beauty pageant. So why didn't she like me the way I wanted her to?

I didn't know, and Jasper didn't either. I talked to him almost every day on the phone, but he had no real insights or advice to offer. In his humble experience with girls, they usually just removed their panties and handed them to him. He was kind of a hunk. He had no idea how to actually work for pussy. He was actually surprised that I was struggling so much with Jess, because as far as he knew, girls actually liked guys with a strong feminine side. I guess being a full female wasn't quite as attractive.

She even started standing me up toward the end of the holidays. I asked her on the phone one night if she wanted to use my discount at the store to shop for new clothes for school, but she said she didn't want to waste the money. I was going to rephrase the invitation to include just hanging out and window shopping at the mall, but to be honest, I was getting kind of sick of her bullshit. If she really was losing interest in me, she should tell me instead of leading me on like this. So instead I just hung up and called Jasper instead.

Jasper loved to shop; part of his feminine side. Even for girls clothes. He was completely cool with just following me around and chatting and carrying bags. Sometimes I wondered if he might secretly be gay—with his long well-kept hair and his affinity for spending time with a homosexual—but then again, he did seem to be legitimately in love with me. Whatever the case, he was fun to shop with. It would've been better to have a girlfriend that I could dress up and fondle in the change rooms, but Jazz was the second best thing.

The original plan had been to make a few select purchases from the place I worked at, but we went to the mall instead so we could make a day out of it. We spent all morning and all afternoon roaming, drifting from clothes stores to videogame and sports stores, just to keep it fair. I hadn't mentioned my problems with Jess yet, because I was still pretty upset with her, but it was only a matter of time til Jazz asked.

"So how's things going with Jess?"

I sighed and took a small yellow top off the rack. "Still nothing," I said. "At this point I'm hoping she'll just break up with me. After chickening out like she did, you'd think she'd try and make it up to me, or at least let me take her top off for a while, but all she did was pay me back for the room. It's been over a month. I was supposed to hang out with her today, but she chickened out of that too. She said she didn't feel like going anywhere."

I was holding up the top and looking at it. Yellow wasn't my colour, but maybe it was bright enough to cheer me up? I turned to Jasper to get his opinion, but he was looking across the store with a drained face.

"Uh oh," he said.

"What?"

I stuck the top back into the rack and turned around. And what I saw made my blood curdle.

Jess was there.

With Mike.

I stared at them with my mouth open. Jess was holding a top against her chest and they were both smiling. He touched the top as if to adjust it. She said something and blushed. He chuckled. It could've been nothing, but somehow I knew. My vision seem to blur. I couldn't even describe what I was feeling. Confusion. Rage. Betrayal.

"What the fuck?" I murmured.

"Now, now, let's not overreact," Jasper said, putting a pre-emptive hand on my arm. "They're probably just hanging out as friends. After all, you're here with a guy as well, and there's certainly nothing—"

I jerked my arm away and stalked over.

They saw me coming and jumped. Jess looked like a frightened rabbit who got caught in the corn. I went right up to her with my eyes blazing and said:

"I thought you didn't feel like going out today?"

"Alice," she said, almost pleasantly. "Hi."

I glared at her. Out the corner of my eye I noticed Mike smile and try to get my attention. "Hey, Alice," he said. "We were just—"

But I didn't want to hear his stupid voice. I snatched Jess's wrist and dragged her away to the change rooms in the back.

The change rooms were just little cubicles closed off with curtains. I ripped open one of the curtains and shoved Jess inside before tearing the curtain closed again.

"Alright," I said, spinning to my girlfriend, "what the hell is going on, Jess? What are you doing with that creepy little twerp?"

"Don't talk about him like that, Alice."

It was like being punched in the stomach. The breath rushed out of me. She was defensive…for _him_? I could hardly believe it. That one sentence seem to rip a hole in my insides but it was only moments before indignity came rushing in to fill it.

"_What_?" I hissed.

Jess had been frowning, but now her frown softened. She looked really guilty all of the sudden and she gave me a reluctant shrug.

"I was going to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"You know Mike and I are friends. We've been hanging out a lot lately, and…"

She trailed off and looked aside. The cubicle was very small and I could smell her perfume. She was wearing nice jeans and a smart top. She even had her long blonde hair pinned with barrettes like how she liked to wear it for a date.

"You know I always liked him," she went on. "I always thought that _you_ were the one he liked, but the other day we were at the movies, and he…"

"Oh god," I practically moaned in horror.

"I'm sorry, Alice."

"What did you do?"

"We only kissed."

At first I was relieved. Then she added meekly:

"At the movies. At the movies it was only a kiss."

I felt like I was going to cry. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? How could this be happening to me?

"But then we went out a couple times," she went on, "and we were making out in his car, and we ended up…"

"Oh my god," I said, looking away with a hand on my forehead. "I think I'm going to be sick."

I wasn't even exaggerating. Nausea was building in my stomach like a foul black mass and the knowledge that Jess had given it up to Mike when she never gave it up to me even on prom night threatened to bring the whole thing up.

"I'm sorry, Alice," she said. "I didn't want to hurt you, but I had to be sure before I said anything."

I looked up at her with my eyes inflamed and speckled with rage.

"You cheated on me? With _Mike_?!"

She even had tears in her own eyes. "I'm sorry."

My mouth opened and closed. No words. My head was spinning in a circle and finally I just balled a fist and hit her clumsily in the shoulder.

"You whore!" I screamed at her.

Then I sobbed and spun and wrenched open the curtain to run out.

Jasper drove me home directly afterward. It had been a sunny morning, but it started to rain before we reached my house. Fittingly enough.

I could still hardly believe it. I knew Jess had always liked Mike, but sleep with him? Seriously? I know I'm not the keenest judge of male attractiveness, but eww. How could she?

I didn't understand it, but that didn't change the facts. It was over. Me and Jess were no longer together. But now that the rage had passed, I didn't even feel that sad. Just kind of numb. It still hurt like hell, but if we're going to be honest, I guess the relationship had practically been over already. And if we're going to be even more honest, there was also the fact that I'd cheated on her way before she ever cheated on me. It had slipped my mind in the heat of the moment, but it was true. Sleeping with a tool like Mike seemed infinitely worse and more despicable, but I guess the principle was the same.

About halfway home I began to tell Jasper what happened. He must've made some guesses, but I filled him in on the details. He nodded and shook his head, listening with the gravity proper to it, not making any jokes just yet. But he would later, when the time was right to cheer me up. He always did.

Eventually he pulled up outside my house and shifted into park. His truck was a huge black fourwheel drive and for a while we just sat there. The rain was drumming on the roof of the cab and the windshield was almost completely blurred over. I was looking down at the bag of clothes in my lap and after a while I sighed.

"I guess I shouldn't be so upset," I said. "It was never going to work out anyway. I should've broken up with her ages ago. Besides, maybe I kind of deserved it."

"Why?" he asked with a frown, as if I might be being hard on myself.

I looked at him. To be honest, that last part had slipped out. I guess I could've brushed it off, but I kind of wanted him to know. He was my bestfriend. If I couldn't tell him, who could I tell? Besides, I didn't want him to think I was some kind of loser who couldn't get a chick. So I gave a little shrug and decided to confess.

"I never told anyone," I said, "but…I cheated on her, too."

He was surprised. "You did? With who?"

I chuckled once and turned my eyes to the rain blurred windshield. "I don't even know," I said. "It was at prom. After Jess had left. There was this woman at the bar, and…I can't even explain it. There was just something about her. I didn't think anything would happen, but I went over and hit on her anyway. I couldn't believe she was actually into me."

I finished with a small chuckle. Jasper raised his eyebrows and gave me an impressed smirk.

"Wow," he said. "Was she hot?"

"She was incredible. Black hair, pale skin. And not just her body, but her confidence. She was a full grown adult, and she didn't even care. Didn't even hesitate. Just took me right up to her room and fucked me like it was nothing."

I spoke in the soft far-away voice of fond recollection. Jasper liked these new developments and he grinned widely.

"Well," he said. "Maybe you did kind of deserve it."

I chuckled to myself and the chuckles trailed off into a sigh. "I don't regret it, though," I said. "I wouldn't even apologize. She was worth it. I mean, it wasn't just sex. It was really like love at first sight. I'd give anything to see her again. I even went back to the hotel to try and find her, but she'd checked out."

He nodded. I nodded too. Then suddenly I burst into anger all over again.

"But _Mike!_? Mike Newton? That's what hurts the most. Mike Newton, of all people. How could she humiliate me like this? Do you have any idea what they're going to say at school?"

But he shook his head as if it wasn't such a big deal. "Nah, it's not like that," he said. "Actually, it's better if she dumps you for a loser. Now everybody will just think she's an idiot."

"You think so?"

"Sure," he said, nodding. Then he leaned toward me and slipped an arm over the backrest of my seat. "And she is, too. I mean, what kind of moron would pass up a chance at a pretty girl like you?"

I rolled my eyes, only slightly smiling. He was practically in my lap and he punctuated his attempt at flirting by tracing a fingertip along my jawline while gazing into my so-called pretty face. It would've wetted me instantly if he was a chick.

"Not now, Jasper," I said. "Come on, I'm upset."

He chuckled and didn't move. "You gotta admit, though," he said. "It might be my best opportunity to make a move. I mean, here you are, all hurt and vulnerable because your girlfriend cheated on you with a guy. What better way to get revenge than by doing a guy yourself, hm? After all, girls suck, right? Maybe you need to try something different."

Oh boy. It was scary how much sense that made.

"Don't temp me, alright?" I told him, grinning.

"And not just any guy," he went on, leaning closer to my face and lowering his voice to a whisper barely audible above the rattle of rain on the metal roof of the truck. "But your best friend. The guy who's always there for you, whenever you need someone to talk to and understand and make you feel better."

"And make awkward unwanted advances," I retorted.

He smirked. I was shrinking back into the carseat so I probably didn't seem as defiant as I hoped. He was so close by now I could feel his breath on my lips when he spoke.

"Awkward?"

"Yeah."

"Unwanted?"

I smiled and didn't answer. My heart was racing weirdly, and I decided to let him do it, just this once, just a kiss, just to try. Why not? It's not like I was utterly repelled.

Still, I was surprised when he actually did it. I didn't think he'd have the balls. But he came closer and closer until—eek. His lips pressed against mine. Yikes. So weird. But at least I was somewhat braced and prepared. My eyes didn't even fall closed, they just darted about as I wildly tried to determine all in an instant if I liked it or not.

Oddly, I kind of did. Not the same way I liked kissing a girl, but it wasn't the most awful experience of my life. It was kind of like kissing a cousin, or…a friend. Yeah. Probably the same way Jess felt when she kissed me.

Then it was over. Thankfully he never tried to deepen it. Tongue might've been more than I could've handled. He pulled back slightly, our lips disconnecting, and I was recovered enough by now to raise an eyebrow haughtily. His own eyebrows creased in concern for his kissing ability and he said:

"Nothing?"

"Well, not much," I said. "Actually—"

I spat on the dashboard, suddenly remembering how much I hate boys. My face scrunched up in disgust and I began wiping at my mouth. Jasper was looking at the little piece of spittle on the dashboard. He looked like he wanted to clean it up, but in reality he would probably never wash that spot again now that it had my germs on it.

"Ouch," he said. "I didn't think it would be that bad."

"Yuck," I said, lifting out a top from the bag in my lap and wiping my mouth properly. "If that's how Jess feels when she kisses me, I guess I can't blame her. I just wish she never led me on and lied to me."

"You gonna forgive her?"

"Yeah, I guess I already have."

"You gonna tell her?"

"About what?"

"About that woman from the hotel?"

I paused to think about it. I guess Jess deserved to know, to help defray a little of her own guilt at betraying her girlfriend so despicably, but in all honesty, I didn't really care at the moment what Jess deserved. So I shook my head and tucked the top back into the bag.

"Nah," I said. "No point. I don't want to turn it into a bad thing. If I'm never going to see her again, I think I'll just keep it as a special memory. Actually, I wish I never even told _you_."

He chuckled and narrowed an eye at me playfully. "You sure you aren't just making this up?"

"I wish I was," I said, heaving a sigh. "Sometimes I get really depressed when I think how I'm never going to see her again."

"What would you do if you actually did see her again someday?"

"I don't know," I said, giggling once. "Probably just die."

Then I pecked him on the cheek, hopped out into the rain, and jogged into my house.

—

The following Monday was back to school. A bright and sunny day. Jess and I had patched things up over the weekend, and we were basically back to normal, aside from a newfound awkwardness that would probably linger a while. We met up in the parking lot, as we always had, and soon we were going down the corridor with our schedules in our hands. I had hardly even glanced at mine, too excited at finally being in the lofty grade twelve.

"Ah, finally seniors," I said, grinning at all the lesser classmen we passed in the hallway. "Feels good."

"It's pretty awesome we finally have the same homeroom together," Jess said, still looking at the schedule in her hands. "But who's this Miss Swan? I've never heard of her before. Is she new?"

My steps had slowed and stopped.

_Swan_, whispered a familiar voice inside my head.

That was the name of Isabella. Isabella's last name. The woman from the hotel. From my dream. But—

"What's wrong?" Jess asked.

I shook my head vaguely and looked down at my schedule. It really did say Swan. For both homeroom and english. But it had to be just a coincidence so I chuckled absently and brushed it off.

"Nothing," I said.

It didn't feel like nothing, but it had to be. I couldn't possibly bring myself to hope it was the same person. That would be beyond impossible and ridiculous.

And yet, I couldn't help it. We moved on to our lockers and I was so giddy and anxious I almost felt like throwing up. We got our books and the next stop was homeroom. The door was open and people were already inside. I tried to brace myself, knowing that the new teacher was probably just some old crone I would hate for the rest of the year, knowing that it couldn't possibly be her, knowing that I shouldn't even hope.

Jess went in first and I followed her. My heart was thumping. I was afraid to look because I knew, I just knew it couldn't be, and yet—

I looked and the first thing I saw was a pair of black shoes. Leather pumps with tall heels. My mouth was already falling open. Above the shoes were slim ankles, white and delicate as ice. My eyes went higher and travelled over a pair of long and pearl white legs. Mid-thigh there was the hem of a slim black skirt with a pinstripe pattern. The skirt hugged her hips like a second skin. My heart was about to burst. I could feel it slamming against my ribcage. My eyes went higher and I saw she was wearing a black pinstripe blazer with sharp shoulders. The material was flat black and yet the hair that cascaded against it seemed even blacker.

There was a whimper in my throat and for a second I just stood there staring at the back of her head.

Could it really be..?

Could—

She was writing her name on the whiteboard. _Ms Isabella Swan_. Like that time at the hotel, she did not seem to be unaware of my presence. Somehow she even seemed as if she had been expecting me. And yet she did not turn until she was done writing her name. She wrote it in a beautiful flowing script, and then she capped the pen and finally she did turn. She turned and she looked at no one else but me.

I stood there, fixed like a doe in the paralysing gaze of her dark and gorgeous eyes. Euphoria was washing over me in waves as I took in the familiar features of her face, her nose, her cheekbones. Her lips. Red and slightly smiling. I had seen them before, so many times in dreams and once in reality.

It was her.

Isabella Swan.

—


End file.
